are you ready for another bad poem?

this is my poetry as well as some other things i may make and maybe even some poetry from my friends

[kitwickham]

the sound of your voice rises like bile in my throat

the tangle of your air suffocates me,

tying itself into a noose around my neck as your hands

refuse to part from behind my back

i cannot escape even the ghost of your presence

and you will haunt me forever

[kitwickham]

my body is a prison for the monsters in my head, my skin is the bars to this jail of flesh. the only key that can unlock them is a silver blade, and these scars are the proof that i cannot find the lock. there is no prison guard here, no voice of reason to hush my cries. the silence from outside my head is more unbearable than the din within. you can hear my screams but not the cause of them. i am losing myself and you bear witness. the white noise of jet engines deafens me as i stare blankly out the window. my thoughts will be found in the stars that lie above me and the lights that rise up from below. i spiral downwards to greet them and the plane follows me at a gliding pace, she will overtake me and there is nothing left to protect me but the vapour of clouds

[kitwickham]

i am left as an unfinished jigsaw, my heart was the final piece and it disintegrated in your palm

[kitwickham]

the moon is a perfect hemisphere, amber light from behind me illuminates my cigarette silhouette. fairy lights twinkle and dance to music they cannot hear

five small specks of fire fight through crowds of water in the sky, water trickles from a fountain behind a fence of darkness, another home.

the still night bites at my toes and my fingers but inside i am warm as death.

tonight i realised that silence is as loud as the absence of noise that has ceased to overcome me

[kitwickham]

make art with the pieces of your broken heart.

icy shards slice paper wrists into origami

watercolours flood through the creases

and stain my skin with scars.

i will paint tragic masterpieces until i forget

what they mean or what they meant or why i paint them

because if the universe is infinite,

why paint the night sky when you can just

look up

[kitwickham]

monochrome nightmares are technicolour rainbows reminding me of my existential heartbeat and of my last, whispered breaths

a tanka

[kitwickham]

words formed a door for me; they also created the lock for which i have no key.

i am trapped in a jail 

with prison bars made of the alphabet,

i cannot articulate it.

[kitwickham]

my life breathes through my words; my words are gone and i have nothing left

[arielwritesstuff-blog]

my head is a tornado in a crowded room,

and you are all storm clouds.

i am imprisoned for as long as i will take

to explode into a hurricane, everything in my path

will be hit by the nuclear bomb of my

barely beating heart, listen close, you can

hear the tick-tock of a detonator counting down.

5,4,3,2,1-

fog chases me as rain drops form a blanket

that ties me up, a jail that keeps me still and

a blindfold that keeps me silent.

i do not know how long i will be here,

for i will never get out.

[kitwickham]

the world has hit me with a bullet in the head

blood pours like words from my mouth

and tears trickle from each eye

my lifeblood is my poetry and it has abandoned this shell

every attempt at figuring out why

lands me one step closer to the centre of this living hell

oblivion has left me for dead

[forgetfulsurf]

all of my vinyl has been scratched.

no longer can i hear the smooth sound of rock’n’roll

waves as they hit the shore of my whitewashed walls.

i am met with a wind that blows an echo of

the same glitched chord through my head

like the whistle of wind on the stillest of summer days.

i look up to see the sunshine in the middle of the night

and i am met with a galaxy that refuses to light the way.

i do not know where they could lead me, i

close my eyes and maybe i never will find out.

the sky does not hold the answer to any question

you may ask it, but every star is an ear that will listen

before giving you the deafening silence of no response

[kitwickham]

hi everyone! okay so after some consideration i have decided to change this url to my pen name, as shortly i'll probably change from just writing poems to writing other stuff as well - prepare yourself for some prose (;

[kitwickham]

panic! at the [cinema]

you will die a horrible death... and you will not be missed. a scratched vinyl on my internal record player. i watch it run circles round my head, echoing into the darkest corners and resonating in the darkest crevices of my being. repeating and repeating, on and on, relentless, everything else has faded to a black darker than the shade that fills my veins and my lungs and my heart and my head with every single beat and every single breath and fills the gap left by every word that escapes from between my clenched teeth and quivering lips but inside i am not darkness i am on fire and i can feel it burning through my veins scorching me further until i cannot breathe. there is fire in my lungs and it refuses to extinguish and it will kill me i will die a horrible death... and i will not be missed because all i will see is black so i will never believe the way you look at me like i matter and all i will feel is fire so i will not understand the hand that squeezes mine all i will ever hear is the voices in my head so i will never comprehend your concerned whisper and the offer you dont want me to take up but you suggest it anyway because 'you dont have to be all self-sacrificing, you know' but i do because i cant give you a reason not to and i have nothing else to give if out of myself a sacrificial lamb i do not make i will die a horrible death... and i will not be missed

[kitwickham]

[kitwickham]

the shadow of midnight passed without even the imagined tick tock of my digital clock, sleep evades me. every time my eyes draw to a close, i see nothing but darkness and you walking away. i cannot tell which is bleaker.

[forgetfulsurf]

survival instincts tell me this is not

right, not how things should be. This metal cage

with plastic windows is far too bright when

this other outside is nothing but black.

Silent voices scream out in my head but

i hear nothing but the steady rhythm

of sleeper heartbeats and metallic snores.

an empty smile without a face passes

by, with nothing but an echoed 'tickets please'

-

the other outside is familiar. 

a lit cigarette is all that can guide

my journey. i follow its trail in to

the road, where ash will meet chipped lines of paint

a monochrome spectrum has faded to grey.

—

i have seen the end of everything and

my footsteps have become marching orders

[kitwickham]

a crisis of identity

WHERE HAVE MY WORDS GONE?

i keep pressing buttons with letters on them

i can see words but i cannot say them

there is a plug in my throat and

no sound can gurgle up the drain

-

IS THIS A POEM?

there are line breaks and stanzas

but there is no emotion and

not really any structure

-

it is not raining outside but i wish it were

because pathetic fallacy is my favourite poetic device

and the only way i can describe what happens in my head

is by comparing my mood to the colour of the clouds

my life is never more than a dreary grey 

although sometimes i will be a deep purple

as a storm brews behind closed eyelids and

i will explode

i will EXPLODE

I WILL EXPLODE

in a clatter of thunder and lightning and rain

but no one will hear because there is a storm

can i call myself a poet if no one remembers my name?