Poetry Writing

the first attempt

Her name was Mary, but she was no virgin.
Her insides were made up of blackberry dust and
needles, memories of the day the ferris wheel froze.
It stood in the middle of the fair and made shadowed
cliffs across the snowy hills.

The voice behind her licked at the space
behind her knees, blew her kisses as the edges
called her closer and begged for a release.
“You’ll die if you keep this up, little girl,
you’ll die if you don’t kill yourself first.”

via *


  • Ryan

    God damn, that's powerfully dark. Sorry, but I like it.

    "You'll die if you keep this up, little girl,
    you'll die if you don't kill yourself first."

    I know thoughts like that, and I'm somehow eerily comfortable with them. I think that as long as I maintain the option to kill myself first, then life cannot be taken away from me. Just my thoughts. My crazy, insane, train of thought.

  • Lola Day

    This is haunting, and despite how dark this piece is, this is an incredible piece of writing. It could be the prologue of something else.

    Either we can take ourselves, or eventually Death will take us when It does. Our minds are our prisons.

  • AVY

    We're all slowly dying, I'm not sure how to feel about that.


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