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Fucked Up College Kids Poetry 018
F U C K E D U P C O L L E G E K I D S
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- t h e p o e t r y v e n t u r e -
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[intro]
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kiss the needles
a snow white pain
seethes in morbid silence
a quiet simplicity that
outlines my very being
quickly - turn off the lights
before searing brightness
burns my mortal soul
unwilling and unable to
fulfill the simple desires
that permeate his being
i wonder what it is to
be a violet - perfection
in its own right
imagine the possibility of
suffering a yellow soul and
being adored in spite of it
a silent reaching, a bleeding
within within
and yet beautiful without
what is it about innocence
that beckons? And can I
capture that lacy corsage
and pin it upon my own
breast? Or would it prick me,
a sharp death instrument,
shunning the torrid veined
flesh that lives there?
That flesh
That flesh that knows
teeth and fists, an intelligent
knowing that blackens
and mars, a rose petal
torn by life. See the gentle
curl of ruin and love it as
you would a violet
please.
demonika 4/14/98
Blood
My bite breaks the surface of his trembling, pale skin,
as I rest his head gently upon my shin.
His warm, moist, luscious blood drips through the cracks of my teeth,
and I listen to the sound of my tasteful love's frightened shrieks.
I see him squirm, wiggle and tighten his fist,
as I move in to give him one final everlasting kiss,
I feel his chilled flesh between my two hands,
while his hair parts into small, thin strands.
He looks at me with pleading blue-green eyes,
as I smile sweetly and lick my lips dry.
I let him loose and he falls to the floor,
as I walk away wishing I had more.
I move on to find my next male victim,
as the sun sets and the day becomes dim.
I walk through the woods, lips coated with dry blood,
sneakers carrying me through the sticky mud.
Crickets chirping their tune,
while I look up and cry at the moon.
My eyes that have changed to auburn,
look around remembering all I have learned.
Hair of blond that has now been changed to a darker shade of black,
hugs my shoulders and dances on my back.
I hear him in the distance, so my pace becomes faster,
something grabs me from behind, it is my master.
He created me so he is my love,
I wonder if I am damned as I look up above.
What I have become is not my fault, I didn't have a choice,
when it came to my decision, he had stolen my voice.
I do not wish to be changed, I longer understand the meaning of good,
you can try to change me back, but I doubt anyone ever could.
Volaris
New Gods Decree
subtle lies, faithless cries
i hear them all
for I am one of the new gods
let it be, the emotional debris
persecution unending, my soul in lending
new stye of abuse
for I am one of the new gods
flesh is torn, again i'm born
self damage your sin, as if giving in
you try to drag me back
for I am one of the new gods, and this is my decree
mea culpa 98
TEMPORARY PLOT
it's motionless. this passing
phase sleeps. decision want
to circumsize my integrity.
peeling back love. leaving
emotions on the floor. one
more kiss for credibility.
childhood forces. black
days and dead nights. everyone
sees them pointing a finger.
wake up. nothing breaks
like a dream. and no one
knows you when you linger.
borrowing idols. turning to
sounds for answers. and there's
only one more sacrifice to try.
thoughts harvest hate. sanity
bleeds into the Holy Grail. but i
am not prepared to fight and die.
Indiana Poet March 5, 1998
In times of sadness pressing madness,
you make me laugh comical tears,
to forgetful hardships colored murky,
we elope to happiness hello honest,
you attire my emotions adorned alive,
I love you like sunsine heated time.
In times of sickness pressing wickedness,
you make me well thankful health,
to amnesia amazement cured despondency,
we elope to fancy for each other,
a rare caring crafted honey,
you've acquired my emotions dancing inside,
I love you like sunshine heated time.
Sadia
Dark Cavern
Dark cavern of my refuge
Only the way I want it.
Light as much or as little,
scent and decor up to me.
Alcove in the wall,
where I can stop and stare.
No need to wonder,
what I am doing there.
Not liking the outter-world
I can always find my way,
to that dark cavern.
Dark cavern of my refuge.
Filled with only the items I wish
no need for rushing or being harsh.
The cavern is onlyt he way I want it.
Days or years do not matter.
For I shall always ...
the dark cavern of my refuge.
Kamira March 20, 1998
BULIMIA
Images
in front of me
waifs
wisps of hair
I stare into my reflection
and cry
fill my needs
pour in more
It's full
I stick the hand of fate
down my throat
deeper
come out
anger, bitterness
fill me
purging
pouring out
like a river
with empty
promises
of becoming you
a frail bird
empty soul
a waif
Longing,
Bingeing,
Purging
BlueRose
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E D I T O R S: jericho@dim.com & demonika@dim.com
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(c) Copyright. All poems copyright by original author.
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F O U N D E D: October 30, 1997
