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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Bring Me My Headdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: HisNameIsNoMore
    ASL Info:    28 - Male - Ohio
    Elite Ratio:    3.09 - 75/182/211
    Words: 274
    Class/Type: Poetry/Dark
    Total Views: 645
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1661



    Description:
       


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    dotsBring Me My Headdots
    -------------------------------------------


    Internally, externally and eternally - dead.
    Crimson, carmine and red - bleeding.
    Laugh, snicker and grin - smile.

    I can hear the street lights of Hell screaming out loud, wiping away the horrid shadows of these jagged sidewalks only for a moment as night begins to fall.
    The roaches and rats chitter and snap, crawling across the walls.
    Hearing them call all through the night, one eye open yet not out of fright.
    I felt it crawl across my vision, small legs and pincers tasting my eye, yet I failed to move at all.

    Insanity, morality and apathy - alive.
    Black, brackish and wet - drowning.
    Scowl, frown and whimper - sadness.

    Clashing glass to glass as the bottle crashes into the light in my mind.
    Poverty with no faith is a toxic concoction, no hope with a pounding headache of absolution.
    Life in stasis.

    Bring me to riches and dreams even if they're delusional ideas.
    Bring me the head of your God if he exists, bring me its damn head.
    Bring me the happiness that I have been so deprived of.
    Bring me home again.

    Always, never and again - then.
    Murder, work and die - useless.
    Cauterize, rend and burn - fire.

    Feel the absence of my heart.
    Fill me up with broken dreams and drugs to calm me.
    Lulling me into a state of Nero deficiencies and melancholy, shit out of luck with no values.
    Maybe one day it will dawn.

    I doubt that and so do you.

    Bring me the head of everyone so that I may stare back just as empty.




    Submitted on 2009-10-28 16:42:48     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      Ouch, well I read it three times to make sure I was reading what a 21 year-old man of the USA wrote about life as he sees it. The form of this work fades in the horror of it. Ouch again.
    | Posted on 2009-10-28 00:00:00 | by edcherry | [ Reply to This ]


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