a torment to those who care,
an embracement of the pain,
our sickest mind cannot understand.
held down by our own fingers,
scraping against our ear drums,
a sickness,
I gladly hold tightly,
to my heaving bosom,
cold to the touch,
yet a fire inside me.
pulsate,
fornicate with our shadow filled night,
holding out our arms,
grabbing for the moon.
I WISH IT WAS MINE!
how the lifeless drone underneath the stars,
and yet never take a second,
to just look up into that velvet blanket,
and wish,
how would it feel?
Devil's gaze,
held here with my pain,
held here,
amongst this,
this unforgettable,
broken bones,
sticks and stones,
more comfortable than your gut wrenching eyes,
gazing into my own lifeless breathing face.
oozing tears,
bloodier than the times you stabbed me,
DON'T TURN YOUR BACK ON ME!
please please,
DON'T LEAVE ME!!
please please,
one more minute with me,
stop my heaving,
breathless ecstacy,
for your own selfishness?
If demons could only see,
just the way you treat me,
maybe they would truly understand,
real pain,
real malevolence,
the reality of what i am.
laying under the stars,
open my eyes,
my hands fully closed,
my own bones enclosed inside,
what is the point,
if i cannot tell you,
how much i truly hate you.
Author notes
Dear Christina,
i can only hope this gives you the shivers in the night that only the coldest moon could ever impart on you. I beleive in fate, and fate consipires against us all, remember this the next time you feel the frozen timeless breath upon the back of your neck, and someones hands reaching around you, as if to strangle the remaining life out of your already cold dead skin.
Cheers!
Kevin
p.s- i hope this letter scared the shit our of you, that was the point.
A contest entry
- SCARE ME TO DEATH by thelovesongwriter.
410 points, ended June 6, 2007, 22 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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also, i forgot, please follow& read the rules because it's unfair to the other entries. thanks.
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wow! this is deep! I loved it! it's so creepy! I truly loved the last two stanzas. great job and good luck!
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This sounds like one of those ranting monologues I go on where I wish I had a recorder. It's odd, this whole thing reminds me of the Plague, or Black Death. Just the early references to sickness, I guess. You should read one of Edgar Allen Poe's short stories called "The Masque of the Red Death". It's one of my FAVORITE short stories, and I think it goes along with this really well. It's frustrating, nobody's poems can make me wonder and feel as much as yours do, but at the end, I always feel so confused. Most of it is because I wonder who these poems are written to/about. The many references to "you" make me really really wonder who they are about.




