Tombstones in my Mattress

I’ve got Tombstones in my Mattress 

Waiting for the next certain death

To join this grave site of men and women I have not yet met

I deem it over before it begins

And I mourn these relationships

Over

And over again

I got Tombstones in my Mattress

And I practice pretending they aren’t there

Potholes and traps for all who enter these tomb filled snares

I got ash cans and grey post

That line the belly of this seam

I got construction going on

In the trinkets of my dreams

In the pit of my Mattress

I call it the dead zone

Their building a fortress

And fences

Calling it their home

And they aint even paying rent

I evicted two tenants

And  could care less where they went

I’ve got Tombstones in my Mattress

And I’m prepared to burn this dwelling place

I can’t sleep at night

Without these men staring me in my face

These tombstones have been constructed for over twenty long years

And their comfortable in my bed

Playing spade and swallowing down imported beers

I’m not sad

Depressed

Or angry

I just want these men gone

They’ve been sleeping in my bed with me for twenty years too long

I got diamonds hidden in these dirt filled tombs

Being smothered by dandelions and oversized poisoned mushrooms

My bed has become crowded

And the only person I’m angry at is me

Because I have allowed these men to literally enslave me

I’ve got souls that I desperately need to set free

I keep these memories alive and I hate the reflection I see

I got construction workers knocking walls down building rooms to be filled

While I’m shoveling dirt working hard to empty this dirt filled mill

Gatekeepers come from nowhere, hired in this dark ground of doom

I’ve invited men in to fill these empty tombs

I cannot stand being cramped up in my own bed

I demised a portal

For people who have long time been dead

They have decomposed

Honestly some of them I don’t even know

It’s God awful that their locked in this trench

I’m not sure how much longer I can tolerate this awful stench

Every tombstone has a different face

And a different name

But they’re not much different at all

Really their all the same

I got all these people living in my bed

And it’s deep

It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten a good night’s sleep

I am on the brink of something really big

Tonight, these men are getting the hell up out of my bed

I want to be rid of this affliction

So tonight, I’m sure I’ll be handing out some evictions

Caged

A broken wing

To hang a thing

To think a thing

Then become that thing

Only I can see

And the many people who live in me

Somethings fucking wrong with me

An open rip

My brain is nipped

Aliens have me microchipped

Where the blackness hung

Hung me there

Hung me in the wood somewhere

And nowhere

I will my mind to not betray me

From beyond the thoughts

Sounding things

Exposing me

White noise urging me

Eyes were watching me

My heart was chasing me

My breath was racing me

Exhaust

Did

Live in me

To end this pain

Nervous bleeding in my brain

Dragged me back to somewhere and nowhere

At once

Everywhere

This!

Insanity

Living with

Social Anxiety

Nauseous (Poetry)

mentalnotes1

Émotions * #Artistsupportpledge, Drawing by eza-drawart | Artmajeur

Nauseous from all the sour men I’ve eaten

Understanding my belly more because of them it’s deepened

Watching others cope by cutting while I watch the blood seeping

Tired from this nod spend all my time sleeping

I’ve been confused, panicked and afflicted

Poor me another so I become estranged and addicted

Lady Sings the Blues was my song

Tryna’ wait on God but He seems to take too long

Dancing would have been nice if it wouldn’t have sickened my brain

Spirituality gone wild need a lion trainer to tame

Moonless nights and sunless days

So she plays

And she played

And he paid

Running from her Shadow Knights turning into days

And he stays

Then he strays

So she prays

An evil trick left me sick nervous click felt time tick

Took me days and days till Dawn the universe spinning there’s no Harmony lost in my yawn

View original post 14 more words

Endless tears

Endless tears fall on seasons

A valley long to describe a kiss

Of blinded bliss

To wish a where

To bend a tare

The deepest parts of my pubic hairs

That left a tear

Falling

The Hunter

He hunted me over deserts and tumble weeds
It moved like a bounty hunter and had leads on me
When I last saw him in Dakota in 1846 he bloodied my nose.
I got away on his horse
Posters over dry land.
He searched for me
I moved like a vagabond, running from the ripper
I was a ghost
I thought I had escaped the hunters grip
It scoured taverns, speakeasies and bath houses looking for me
I was clumbsy
Running from the hunter
I was set up
Ambushed by love
Betrayed
It caught me off guard
It checked me
We tussled
Dragged me by my hair
Like a fuckin’ cave man
To the tavern
While the towns people watched in horror
Some laughed and held the wanted posters up
Pointing fingers
Again
It bloodied my nose
I chuckled
Then stumbled back
I spit
Spit my death in his face
And I laughed
Wickedly
And it shot me!
And I bled
And I bled out

He took a shot of that dirty whisky
Hand on gun

Tilted his hat

Looked around
And said…
Pay me


The hunter

Words

Perizzites 🕷 lay babies in my brain
Forcing poetic germs 🦠from these mythological veins
I write ✍🏾and put my random thoughts in mind carved frames 🤯🤯🤯
And I bask in my glory playing this poetic game 🤺🤺
My passion has no mercy 🙏🏿
It has no senseless shame
I’m sworn to secrecy 🤫🤫🤫
I have no poetic gain

I savior every image because I don’t want to waste it
🗣Running 🏃🏾‍♀️🏃🏾‍♀️from the Antichrist because I know he will hate it 😡
Using this poetry to soothe my poetic nerves 🛀🛀🛀
The truth is I’m lost without these poetic verbs

My garden 🍍🍇🍒🍓🍄🥕🍎🥦🥬is where I plant these poetic seeds
For all who roam my pastures to meditate and read 📚📚📚📚
It gets hard for me to breathe trying to fulfill this poetic plead
I take refuge in these words this is my authentic bread

My roots 🍂 are firmly planted far beyond my poet’s tree!🌴

🗣🗣So I scribe and plant poetic seeds!
I’m addicted to these words!
This is my pathetic need! 😲😲

And if I don’t write ✍🏾✍🏾✍🏾✍🏾

I fear my brain will not remain

Tryna’ master the art of

🗣Poetry!

🗣Memory!

🗣Write!

🗣Retain!

🗣Words!

DO NOT RESUSCITATE

Weights heavy like burdens
In search to erase a thing
A thing!
A terrible thing
No amount of love can resuscitate me
To a normal thing
This empty land mind has swallowed my ethos
They look at me as somewhat of a weirdo
With blood on my shirt and dirt in my nails
I have the stench of lonely only the dead can smell
No person place or thing
Can resurrect me
Normal
I want to will myself a reset
To erase all the regret
My silence cry rivers and my soul is damned
To something morbid and sadistic
And no song I sing can erase the thing
That screamed at me in a dream to wake
Corners turn curves
To shake awake every unhinged nerve
Scream then disappear
I’ve been hiding from the boogie man
Haunted by memories
I will forever be trapped
In this dream
And no amount of love can resuscitate me

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

Trapped In An Abandoned Mind

Delving in the crevices of my head looking for buried treasure

Penpositive Outclass

The Journal of an Active Learner

K E Garland

Inspirational kwotes, stories and images

Jan S. Gephardt's Artdog Studio

Nurturing creativity with art, animals, and science fiction

moonmetaversed

poetry nfts web3 articles difi crypto

Homemaking for the Asiatic Black Muslim Women And Girls in North America

WE DID IT FOR THE DEVIL MAN AND HIS FAMILY FOR OVER 400 YEARS!!! LET'S DO IT FOR THE BLACKMAN AND OUR FAMILIES NOW!!!

Satyaja Sutra

Heal, Rejuvenate, Discover yourself!

Rhiannon Writes

The contents of my notes app, not necessarily written to be read

Living the Human experience

Our choices define our Experience

360Media Music

Latest Music Update, Download Mp3 Audio songs, Music Videos, Mp4 Download, Gospel Jams, Entertainment and Celebrity News

De malinha pronta

Fotografias e palavras percorrem o mundo de mãos dadas.

Darlene Rose

The Lord gave the word; great was the company of those who proclaimed it. Psalm 68:11

Visions of Transition

a blog about retirement and reinvention

Tammy L. Breitweiser

short fiction writer * PUSH Community leader

Trans+National New Left Magazine

Possibility of impossibility

eastelmhurst.a.go.go

I have a hyperactive imagination.Welcome to my world. You can get here by way of Astoria Blvd.,Sunrise Hwy or Wyoming Avenue~

ACTON28: AGAINST THE FLOW OF TRAFFIC

ACTON28: AGAINST THE FLOW OF TRAFFIC