"Pregnant With Madness"
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Description:
An old piece when I was in deep darkness. I will try not to dig up too much of my dark past. Hope you enjoyed otherwise.
"Pregnant With Madness"
: The wounds are bigger now Blood turning into ink Dripping onto a blank page I sit crying : Darkness stitches herself to me Her sickness contagious Blinding me from the light And yet I see a glimmer . . . : Demons climb into my hair Clawing at my clavicles Snatching every bit of sanity Tearing me apart : They stole my pens Ripped my notebooks Screamed and cursed at me Told me I was hopeless : But somehow I am able to laugh Though I write these words With my ink blood Dripping from its wounds : Staggering in pain Yet satisfied, complete My soul; untouched Unbroken, but hurting still : The remains of my mind Forming into poisonous butterflies Flying off into a psychedelic world . . . the one I created : Unsettled; though peaceful This thing moves in me . . . : Impregnated by Anger Pregnant with madness Shall I abort this abomination? Or let it live? : Shall I conceive to deceive? How . . . how can I birth a monster Who is the root of insanity? : But I did birth Madness Didn’t I . . .? : Or maybe I had a miscarriage And now here lies Madness Dead in between the lines Of this poem : Can you guess? But wait . . . Maybe you already know : Maybe you can even hear My ink blood dripping its lullaby On the edge of your mind Maybe you are the one who is mad and not I : Maybe . . . : Although Madness could be alive now Her essence Flowing thru my veins Writing this poem For you : |
Submitted on 2015-03-11 17:26:06 Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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The madness without*| | Posted on 2015-07-14 00:00:00 | by Damien Vladimir | [ Reply to This ] | Kigdom of thy hollow souls..you are welcomed here..both you and the ad Ness without. Come from within. | | Posted on 2015-07-14 00:00:00 | by Damien Vladimir | [ Reply to This ] | no mistakes | | Posted on 2015-04-15 00:00:00 | by monad | [ Reply to This ] | I think to have a flow or period where writing is all you can do and it takes over your thoughts is a kind of madness, and perhaps writing is a cure. Oh, I long to be mad as I once was, when each indelible emotion dripped in ink--or cyber ink anyway--and there was relief until the next point of madness; then the pauses between is where the madness seemed. | ~jan | Posted on 2015-03-12 00:00:00 | by jaycee | [ Reply to This ] | Quite personally I'm mad that I'm mad……..I wanna be good so bad!!! | | Posted on 2015-03-11 00:00:00 | by monad | [ Reply to This ] | |
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