Pool of blood
Against my hell-bound shadow
The shades of different forms he ensnares, entangles, chains
The exhaust of my lifeline like a brutal string, teasing the Thread of Life
By wearing out the story
With dull scissors
My body wears out like a mortal
But he received me as a hell-bent soul
I circle the exhaust
Of that tapped-out smoke
Had I choked
I wish I could die, really die
I'm excited to be this exhausted
It might mean
I will finally break
Break into pieces he no longer can fuck with
But I'm in love with my exhaustion
But really
I'm so fucking in love with
you
About the Creator
Melissa Ingoldsby
I am a published author on Patheos.
I am Bexley is published by Resurgence Novels here.
The Half Paper Moon is available on Golden Storyline Books for Kindle.
My novella Carnivorous is to be published by Eukalypto soon! Coming soon
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More stories from Melissa Ingoldsby and writers in Poets and other communities.
Tortured Soul
The soul careened blindly through a void where it scraped against the walls of a narrow tunnel, amassing a cumulative friction that created all the heat the devil would ever need to torment it. There was no light at the end, not even a fire. From the bottom a cold wind blew, and the clash of extremities spawned vapors of terror in the deadened and numbed appendage that was this strange, delirious, drunken consciousness.
By C. Rommial Butler7 days ago in Fiction
Comments (4)
Such passion for your lover
This was so dark, poignant and seemed to have a tad of masochism. Loved your poem Merly!
Now I know you're not talking about me, lol. May you never have cause to so speak of your significant other, either.
Powerful!!! ❤️❤️💕