 |
Poems On Site: 198,500+ Comments On Poems: 427,000+ Forum Posts: 105,000+ |
Custom Search
|
|
|
||||
| Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 19:59:42 AEST | ||
|
|
||||
|
|
||||
|
|
||||
|
Array
(
[sid] => 9135
[catid] => 1
[aid] => Mick
[title] => Catharsis
[time] => 2002-12-23 19:40:00
[hometext] => This poem is not about a particular person. It's about all that is bad in women being attacked by all that is bad in men.
[bodytext] => Too many times do I fall into the same line
Looking for easy love in the wrong places, Kissing easy girls in the wrong places. Why Do I do these stupid things that I know will Back fire and leave me burned and aching. If I could see through the fog of my own Stupidity and breath beyond the haze of my own Naivety, then I would be able to survive these Times of inner conflict and pass easily through Life. It’s a pretty ***** up thing. I mean, one day Your on top of the world, then the next your Eating your heart out of your hand. Mouthful After sweet mouthful—trying to fill the hole I feel Widening in my chest. I need some other release. I need some catharsis, some sacrificial outlet. I need to leave her with her heart in her hand and Bleeding from her womb, I need to ***** her so hard Then she will never fully heal from the wounds. This feeling I feel cannot be expressed through mere *****, only in the deepest darkest corners of night Can my outlet be found. On a cold night, where the only Thing she is warmed by is the feeling that I care about Her. Then the sweetest time of all arrives and she’s Screaming. She’s letting loose all that cannot be undone, For I have left my mark on her and she’ll know me for Ever and always as the one who did her wrong. The one Who left her crying, wrapped in blood stained sheets, Praying to a god who has forsaken my feelings, who Would never let this happen to her, yet has. My Only release is achieved by sacrificing her flesh To the demons who escape from my mind, from My heart, the demons that have been exercised And now who float in the dark corners above her Bed, laughing, waiting, biding their precious time Until they can feed. Feed on her heart, left in her hand. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 187 [topic] => 13 [informant] => stonedpoet777 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
|
Menu
· 
Poetry
Community
Members
Areas
Reference
Search
Top
Others
Poetry is much like a great photo, a single "moment in time" capturing many feelings and emotions. Yet, they are very alive; creating stirrings within the readers who form visual "pictures" of the expressed emotions within the Poem. ©
Opinions expressed in the poetry, comments, forums etc. on this site are not necessarily those of this site, its owners and/or operators; but of the individuals who post items to this site.
Frequently Asked Questions | | | Privacy Policy | | | Contact Webmaster
All submitted items are Copyright © to their submitter. All the rest Copyright © 2002-2050 by Your Poetry Dot Com
All logos and trademarks in this site are property of their respective owners.
Script Generation Time: 0.052 Seconds. - View our Site Map | .© your-poetry.com