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Thread: Some poems, I guess you could call it.

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    Some poems, I guess you could call it. 
    #1
    Bluelighter
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    Hey, good people of BL.
    These are some poems I wrote sometime ago.
    I mainly write in swedish, so please have that in mind if you wanna tear me a new one.


    1. Resignation

    The word has been crawling
    under my skin all day
    I'm headed for the crash
    on the Fuck-Up highway

    After the decadence
    that pleasant chemical churn
    Remember how the Roman Empire
    how it just burned, burned
    burned

    I'm dripping with sweat
    like tiny ants against my spine
    I'm varm
    I'm cold
    I laugh
    I shake and I cry

    Some of us might just be born
    with the purpose
    to self-destruct
    We scratch with filthy nails
    until those bloody craters
    opens up

    Everything has a taste of blood
    A surreal and strange sensation
    Elvis has left the building, baby
    Consider this
    my resignation


    2. Maybe

    It might have been the way you
    pulled me, took me,
    drank me, shook me
    It might have been the way you
    lit me, broke me,
    cut me, choked me
    It might have been the way you
    burned me, dropped me,
    carried me, shocked me
    It might have been the way you
    stomped me, saved me,
    held me, split me
    It might have been the way you
    swallowed me, touched me,
    drowned me, rushed me
    It might have been the way you
    made me smile,
    made me suspicious
    made me varm,
    made me vicious
    It might have been the way you
    made me laugh, made me addicted,
    made me cry, left me afflicted
    It might have been the way you
    laughed, the way you cried,
    the way you poisoned me,
    the way you let me die
    It might have been the way you
    never came too close, never understood
    never let me hope, never said you would
    It might have been the way you
    picked me apart, torn down stars
    put me together, kissed my scars
    It might have been the way you
    stitched me up, dressed me down
    screamed at night and wore your crown
    It might have been the way you
    became my thoughts
    and walked away
    left me dry
    crushed and frayed


    3. the Sadomasochist

    You asked me to come over
    in early december
    and it was yet to snow
    Your scent was wine & ashes
    and your eyes
    had that violent glow

    You wore that malicious
    cunning smile
    The trademark of a freak
    It's like you had a sixth sense
    Like you could smell
    when someone was feeling weak

    The whip under your bed
    and your knife so gently
    pressed against my skin
    You said
    Just one punch
    and I let the beating begin


    4. My 2 cent soul at a yardsale

    In the darkness of autumn
    you gave me a name
    A glistening knife
    And you knew
    Things would never
    be the same

    You shattered like glas
    as the sickness took hold
    Your panic in daylight
    the shivering hands
    as your world
    grew cold

    A post-it with an adress
    And a one-way ticket
    I trampled through dead leaves
    with broken images
    in an endless flicker

    I learned about the soft spot
    between the ribs and the hip
    As I was getting closer
    I felt nauseous
    on the verge of sick

    You said just poke
    and then you run like hell
    You said the cops
    would be to slow
    And noone would live
    to ever tell

    Now my hands are steady
    Your curse ate up
    all of my fears
    The world went black in that poke
    and something inside me
    grew mean and fierce


    5. Nightmares

    Sometimes I awake
    not with a scream
    but
    choking on your name


    6. Glue

    I want to crawl inside
    beneath you skin
    To grip your heart
    and seize your love
    from within


    3. Mistress

    You stepped in like a silhouette
    a shadow in my life
    Armed with just your promise
    which is also your lie

    Your generosity
    which is also
    your chokehold
    You remain anonymous
    And you never speak
    But your story is always
    being told

    You beat in every heart
    you caress every nerve
    You're a sliver in our thoughts
    A scream that's never heard

    You're the blood,
    the flower
    the touch of my fingertips
    You are yearning
    love
    that never reach
    anybodys lips

    You demanded an audience
    Someone to behold
    your grandiosity
    The sweet,
    whispered lies
    and the raw force
    of your atrocity

    Out came man
    equipped
    with his violent instincts
    and his destructive
    megalomaniac ways
    A puppet to himself
    And Death became
    the spectator it once craved

    We are your children
    The offspring of Ms. Death
    We're born to witness
    Your extravagance
    and inhale
    your intoxicating breath



    Well, that's all I have for now folks.
    Hope you enjoyed some of it, at least.
    Some feedback/critique would be fantastic.

    Have a good one.
    Peace
    Last edited by pulverstaden; 18-05-2018 at 18:16.
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    #2
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    Thanks for posting x
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    #3
    Bluelighter
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    Thanks for reading, and turning me on to this forum-section

    Anything that that you liked?
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    #4
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    Yes nightmares actually
    Its happened to me before
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    #5
    Bluelighter
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    Nice to hear. Not that youve had that dreadful feeling, but that someone, you, could relate to something I wrote.

    Take care homie
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