Tag Archives: Dark poetry

Listening to my corrupted mind…

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The words are too sharp

Shuttering my soul

My eyes wide as the moon

Calling to the night to save me

With no answer replied

Like a knife gliding along my vertebrae

Defenseless against my own self doubt

Every minute every moment longer than the last

Glimpsing in astonishment; the utter darkness of my mind

Terrified in disgust

I’m trembling in my

Menacing vibrations

That I created

I can’t take this anymore

Finishes the poem*

Nina

Goodnightnina’s: Dont make me… Dark Slam Poetry

Death is kinda cool when ya get used to it! Shieeet* I’m translucent.

When a “faggot” passes on, sometimes they drag-on.. “Dragon,”m MORELIKEIT! imploring that I’m coming for YOUR LIFE. Shit

Loosening up your floorboards creeking* creeping toward yours.

You called me a freak cause I wore make, up… my lace covered face tasting your blood ingedient of your hate as you wake up.

Sweeter than sex is revenge let’s pretend YOU made amends,

I’ll chill a moment… amen”

Playing pianos in your in bed while your shitting yourself alone eyes wide as a full moon lit. Fit of despair your screams are useless. Or maybe in the basement hanging nooses for your amusement.

I hope you use it….

They used to tell me “get ghost.”

Now I’m playing host in bloodstained robes.

I’m crawling up your ceiling eyeballs gleaming with utter disgusting nothingness asking if you remember when you tried forcing me to suck your….

You would harass my phone…now you dread; the dead phone ringing ” you” is this your last **** -HELL-O ****

“It’s… It’s… shade on the phone….”

People make me nauseous. Should have been a little more cautious I’m coming up to your room as several different Objects to turn your body    inside out and CONVEX.

Ghosts in the shade…

When the stars lit I’m outside your window.

Don’t make me crawl in.

Over a fucking^^ rainbow, ;) – Nina

A glorified boring story… Spilled guts of glory, implored instored deph percept the gore; me. Slips my toung, crack the drumb; dumb deaf blind and I drank myself knum’>Wake up your your teeth in my fist n creep through the myst. Out the traintunnel better detained cuz im bustin uptempo currupt abrubt and strange* somehow remain humble? Assertained a few nasty lacerations; theres more pride n that than a facelift. ^.^ Hustle like anything else, son you a little stress. sum to get off ya chess?

Shit.

Checkmate and a big chain. Switch blades hop on the trains n dipped day’zed.

-Nina-

Passion; one way or another. – Nina

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Instead of bullshitting I’m going to tell you… Of my passions for danger; they always have been there and always will ignite my soul. I’ve done things and seen things and been places and although left with some regrets… Although the regrets run deep…

I can’t ignore this burning desire for the unknown intertwined darkness; it always ascends on my life one day; in one way way or another.

What is it this time Nina?

 

 

Ghosts in the shade.

Death is kinda cool when ya get used to it! Shieeet* I’m translucent.

When a “faggot” passes on, sometimes they drag-on.. “Dragon,”m MORELIKEIT! imploring that I’m coming for YOUR LIFE BITCH.

Loosening up your floorboards creeking* creeping toward yours.

You called me a freak cause I wore make, up… my lace covered face tasting your blood ingedient of your hate as you wake up.

Sweeter than sex is revenge let’s pretend YOU made amends, I’ll chill a moment… amen”

Playing pianos while your in bed shitting yourself alone eyes wide as a full moon lit. Fit of despair your screams are useless. Or maybe in the basement hanging nooses as amusement.

I hope you use it….

They used to tell me “get ghost.”

Now I’m playing host in bloodstained robes.

I’m crawling up your ceiling eyeballs gleaming with utter disgusting nothingness asking if you remember when you tried forcing me to suck your….

You would harass my phone…now you dread; the dead ringing ” you” is this your last **** -HELL-O ****

It’s… It’s… shade on the phone….

People make me nauseous. Should have been a little more cautious I’m coming up to your room as several different Objects to turn your body        innnnnnside out and CONVEX.

Ghosts in the shade, stay away from our sets.

When the stars lit I’m outside your window.

Don’t make me crawl in.

 

-NINA

 

 

The toy box in my bedroom. A short story. – Nina

Once upon a time, perhaps in another dimension of sorts. Or perhaps an altered reality ( a parallel to the norm which had been departed ). There was a world… it was a dark world like our own although the visions and communications to the mind lay shrouded in an unknown; as to wake up drunk in an amusement park in an abandoned ghost town. All those who enter this realm are intoxicated… euphoric… Or confused.

In this place the laws of physics are often bent, finding oneself transporting from one place to the next. Perhaps flying over the maps of which the reality created unto itself. It is itself; a living and growing place. It’s a place you’ve never been, but you have, faces you’ve never seen but it’s as though a permanent dejavu. Traveling along to its ominous melody.

I find myself in this place often. I climb under the barbed wire and war torn trenches just to see how deep this rabbit hole goes, the blood and destroyed homes visions of viciously broken families. Different tribes that dwell in this place and different spirits.

I’ve seen myself touched by the souls of the dead, although strangling me and taking my breath… killing me, I and only I entrusted with Devine powers to to speak amongst the spiritual realm…and flying across an infinite ocean. I wish I could go back to those times in this place.

This is a violent place, mostly deserted  I have been killed, I’ve killed, had sex many times. I’ve been killed many times in this place and seen life simply placed back into my chest. Leaving me unsure if death is real. There is no contemplation here, too much fog for one to adress mathematics once arrived.

I found myself in horrific post war slums, a child with no parents… There was a mattress and toy box. I’m around 5 years old. As the box opens…I’m not sure exactly what these toys, these memories, they see me, they all see me. You see it was me in the the box. Everything I’ve ever known. In this box. In this place.

When one finds themselves in this place… it can be dangerous. To see light amidst the fog, is… blinding enlightenment, a simple light; it’s as though the heart you use in this place stops beating but… There is no heart. You are always …Gone or missing… One thing is for sure, you are very much: alone.

Of course there is a way out, isn’t there? I think as you are reading this you might be beginning to understand. The subconscious; the infinite abstract of emptiness in form. Not simply the universe seeing itself. Not simply an imaginary delusion of grandiose proportion. That little voice sketched in your head… that lingering feeling in the back of your mind….

Nina… it’s time to wake up…