abusive relationships, emotional abuse, free form poetry, mental illness, narcissistic abuse, poetry, spoken word, spoken word poetry, women abuse

Blood Spatter

.

Break the bread

Roughly

With both fists

Digging in

Crumbs

Falling over your feet

Then spit the wine

straight out

of your mouth full of lies

Harshly enough that droplets

Slide down your hair

Like blood spatter

At a

crime scene

Red

Staining

Your teeth

After all

Isn’t that what

this relationship

Has really meant to you?

Or did you allegedly

Love me?

Consume the last

Bits of crumbs

Lick them from your

Exposed toes

Go ahead

You might as well

Those are the last

Remnants of what we had

There will be no more

Feasting for your hunger

You will always

Let the need drive you

And so you sink

As I expected

Slithering back into

The dark hole

That becomes you

 

 

bipolar disorder, depression, free form poetry, mental health, mental illness, poetry, poetry about mental illness, Preteen kids parenting

Midnight Shadows

black ghost

 

While most of the world around you sleeps, the little terrors crawl up the back of your neck, and knock to get it.

You know better than to let them enter, but the coldness on the back of your neck becomes intolerable and you just open a small crack.

Slowly the thoughts begin to sleep and slide and ooze … like a thick black oil that darkens everything  it touches.

The 2 am delusion has begun to awaken… and the shadows now begin to form. …in your mind….

…and in the left far corner of the room.. ..

You watch as the shadows melt into a form. The form will slither and sway from side to side, inevitably taking on the shape of something ominous. The night’s shadows play harmless tricks…or so people say. But as you blink your eyes once…twice…and again…that form becomes more solid and lifelike.

The veil between the daytime reality and the icy cold hand on the back of your neck becomes blurred, as you pull the blankets up and cover your head.

Only your fingertips peek out from underneath the blanket that you have diminishing faith in to protect you.

And you wonder if these black shadows started in your own mind…how they are now standing above you.

You can’t see them.

The blanket is covering your eyes.

But you know just the same.

The darkness is real … as long as you focus on it.

Your attention gives it power and makes it grow.

And as you focus your attention on not focusing on the shadows….they snicker at you with contempt.

Sleep tight!

( image souce from Pinterest)

 

 

mental illness, poem, poems for poets, poetry

Seducer666

predator.

.

His delicious words spilled out upon the page

Like sensual kisses so perfectly placed

She drank them in like drops of sin

And like green ivy vines, those words intertwined

The seducer and the seduced

The dance went on late into the night

As she hung on his every sweet word

Failing to notice his predator’s stare

Or the small drops of blood on his vest

She couldn’t resist giving in to desire

Till his teeth sunk deep into her flesh

.

.

image from Pinterest

#narcissistic abuse, mental illness, poem, poetry

Eliza

eliza 2.

image from pinterest

.

The midnight wind swept her hair

Like silken darkness across her face

She glanced once from side to side

Then continued with bold strides

Across broken rocks and fallen branches

🌹

Her aching feet finally arriving

Toes pointed toward the black iron gates

Eliza removed an object from her bag

Moonlight splashing a reflection

Onto the cold steel of the barrel

🌹

She thrust as hard as her body could bare

And the object flung over the gates

Into the blackness of the overgrowth

That strangled the cemetary markers

Looking like strange alien spiders

🌹

The cold black steel disappeared

The evidence was swallowed up

Never to have existed in the first place

Eliza trembled at her imagination

Half with dread and half with remorse

That she could never pull the trigger

Even pointed at that god forsaken monster

🌹

The sound of her name broke the silence

And echoed through the streets

She turned towards the direction

From where the creature was beckoning

Dropping her face and hunching forward

She slowly began to make her way back

To home where the creature kept her

.

eliza

.

dark poetry, mental illness, poetry

Darkness Slithers – Dark Poetry

snake 2

.

Darkness slides under the door

When the lights turn down

And the sun sinks far below

Familiar black form

Rises and floats

Disappears for a moment

Grey puffs of smoke

It’s presence ever felt

The creature

Suffocates and strangles

Crawls up the walls

Parades across the ceiling

Darting about and mocking

Bringing up fear like vomit

Draining your blood till you’re cold

Cursing  your heart

back into it’s fold

Beckoning like sirens that

Sing in the deep

Follows you into

That vulnerable sleep

image from pinterest – HERE

dark poetry, mental illness, pathological people, poetry, psychopath

Mr. Lucifer

devil with woman art source pinterest

.

You reached into the flames

That were tearing my flesh

Burning me alive

I did not stop to wonder why

The flames had no effect

on your skin as you reached in

And joined me deep within

You said you had been choking

Suffocating …on the smoke

From your own inner hell

All alone…And now

We could hold hands

And join souls

in that fiery hell

Ruled by the morally insane…

Truth be told. I wanted you there

because if it made you feel  less alone

I would feel saved…

I never suspected

that the blazing black pit

Of brimstone was being stoked

Ever higher as the hot gas

Exploded into screams

Because after all

You recognized the nature

Of the flames

Darkness…

Darkness within the billowing smoke

Filling my lungs with ash

Formed from my buring flesh

I never suspected who you were

Even as I watched you

Expertly move about the fire

With a soul-less smile

that fueled the flames higher

#domestic abuse, #narcissism, #narcissistic personality disorder, abusive relationships, aftermath of narcissistic abuse, free form poetry, healing poetry, mental illness, poetry, PTSD from domestic abuse, PTSD from narcissistic abuse, spoken word

The Mimics

Creativity

Producing creative work

That is truly your own

Whether it be art or music

Poetry or fiction

A new yoga posture to share

Decorating a lampshade

Or painting an old chair

Imagination, creativity and discovery

Can counter the darkness

Of the Soul-less ones

Who can merely mimic others

Emulate emotions they do not feel

And injure others for their own gain

They are shadows walking the earth

Hollow except for darkness

and contempt for those

That have authentic minds and hearts

Your act of creating and self expression

Can counter the darkness

Of the soul-less ones

that walk the earth in pretense

Merely to mimic and exploit

To sadistically seduce

In order to drink the pure energies

Of the empaths and the artists

Wandering from one victim to the next

Wash, rinse, repeat

 

 

mental illness

The Contract

Bring me your soul

And place it before me

It is all the currency

I accept…well

Demand………….

It is not an unfair price

Besides…you won’t

Even notice as I

Take tiny bites

To ingest……….

My price is quite fair

For the services

I will render

Besides, you cannot

Say no……….

You’ve already decided

Or rather,

I have decided for you

There is no real free will

Just my rules……….

And isn’t it quite fair?

After all, my sweet love

Don’t you know

Who I am

Underneath?………

I live in your dreams and

I mimic your desires

With such skill

And let’s admit

Elegant style……..

I read you quite well

From my seat close to hell

I have honed my

Love spell

Over time……..

Dozens of prey

(I mean lovers)

I dare say

Have sat lovingly

Holding that pen……..

Apprehensive or eager

They inevitably sign

Not a contract

Has ever been

Cast aside…….

I have even given you clues

As to the game

I’m up to

But you still

Think that you’ll

 be the one……..

They all thought it too,

The victims before you

They all had

the same misguided

 faith……..

Cause you see what you wish,

Just a broken lost soul

You can  love

And rock gently

To sleep……….

You think that your love

Will fix this lost man

And make up

For my deficient

Sad past……..

But alas, I digress

Tis not my soul

Upon the table…

But your own

I am interested in………

Sign the document, my sweet

So I can rock you to sleep

And fill your

Sweet heart

With myself………

You’ll never suspect

I am stealing your breath

As you struggle

And beg

For your life…….

All at once I’ll be there

Till you turn and I’m gone

Skillfully escaping

with contract

In hand…….

And when you protest

They’ll be nothing much left

Of your will

To go on

Without me…….

For I created a spell

And I read you so well

I became

the only drug that

You live for……..

Yes, such an addiction

Encompassing your soul

The withdrawl

of your fix

Will be pain…..

I will haunt your waking

Moments… as I

Permeate your thoughts

And beg,  you will…

If only in silence……..

Because although I won’t

Be with you

I”ll always be there

Having raped your

Fine soul as I pleased………

Because you were so sweet

I could not resist the treat

Of getting you

To sign

The contract