|
|
Tuesday, April 15, 2003::
By far my scariest poem ever (because it's so true . . . at least in my mind):
"Morbid Thoughts"
Sitting still, my heart runs cold
I find my mind in a darkness never known before
Twisted and bold
Satanic and gore
Can't understand this
I'm a good Christian child, right?
But when my mind lingers over these images
I find my self lost in the dark of the night
Flashes and blood and bones
Leaves and stick and stones
Everywhere I go, the eyes petrify me
Colorless but not blind
I can feel the things I see
Creeping up behind
Sitting in the darkness
Voodoo dolls hung from the ceiling above
Satanic possessions
Obsessions with jumping off bridges and buildings
You can't kill what's already dead
Witchcraft, magic, sorcery, call it what is said
The devil haunts these thoughts and puts these images in my mind
Don't know what I will find next . . .
Vexations
Find me hinding in the corner, screaming out for mercy
But so curious . . . go on, show me the rest
My mind knows not what is best
My self-destructive, mutilating, morbid rants of sensless shit
Will have me on the floor in fits
Seizure, convulsion, expulsion for blowing up the school
That's cool, I suppose, what else is new?
Bloody fangs and cannibalous gesticulations
Imitations as my mind repeats itself again
And again and again until my heart is too cold to care
Gasping for air . . .
What's this silly feeling?
I've no control over myself
My hands and my feet
He's taken the main control center, cheif.
Running out of time, now
To make this morbid rhyme
Follow me out, for my body is no longer mine.
-: Amy Kelley blogged it up at 9:07 PM:-
|
|
|