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Can you feel them

Can you feel them?

Can you feel them Itch upon your skin, and itch and itch to let them in. Can you hear them?

Can you hear them scream your name so sweet, with cracking bones and tearing meat. Can you taste them?

Can you taste them tart upon you lips, with silver tongues and iron grip. Can you see them?

Can you see them smile, as all the while they tear you swift from limb from limb. Can you smell them?

Can you smell the scent upon the air and know for sure you’ve reached Elsewhere. Do you know them?

Do you know the names? Do you smell them?

The scent of pain? Do you see them?

Do you play their games? Do you taste them?

Is it all the same? Do you hear them?

Do they sound insane? Do you feel them?

Do you feel their name? Can you feel them?

Can you feel them?

Do you feel them?

A poem for elsewhereuniversity

By NutMegPoems

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#elsewhere university #poem #poets on tumblr #fae #fairies #gentry #ladies and lords #game #senses #NutMegPoems

j, d, w?

From this post

j.what is the worst thing about your writing? what is the best?

The worst thing is that I don’t know how to write, I don’t know anything about poetry, and I have no Idea how I make my poetry. It just sort of happens. So I don’t have a style or any way of sitting down and going ‘yes I shall write poetry today’…. I have no control over what I write, or how, or when, which is so so frustrating.

The best is that it’s very much tied to my emotions and mental state and I can use it as a channel for my emotions, an outlet that stops me from festering on emotions and just lets me… write, instead of feel.

d. do you have your poetry organized or are you more likely to write half a stanza on a one dollar bill and then spend it by accident?

My poetry is almost always typed. If I feel a poem coming on I’ll scramble for my phone or a computer and just type away in a text message, or on messenger, or as a memo or… whatever opens first really. So it starts out messy but always ends up on tumblr, and if I particularly like it, it will end up on my draft anthology.

w. what colour is your poetry?

My poetry is the colour of pain, made agonizingly crisp by anxiety and tormentingly dull by depression. It’s the colour of spilled blood, of broken bones void of their bodies, of torn and bruising flesh. It’s the colour of enticing, empty, darkness, of the promising peace of what I could have if I just… let go…..

#Ask #Poetry #NutMegThings #NutMegPoems

Dancer

She danced and danced, to the sweetest of sounds.

Danced and danced, never feeling the ground.

Their smiles so sweet, and their laughter too.

Under their gaze she was theirs through and through.

They laughed as she danced till her feet broke and blead.

They laughed as she danced, slowly trapped in her head.

They laughed as she danced, in her own private hell.

They laughed and laughed as she tripped, and she fell.

Yet on she danced, like a doll strung with cords.

On she danced. For the ladies and lords.

By NutMegPoems

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#PolishedPoem #NutMegPoems #NutMegThings #Elves #Ladies and Lords #Torture #Fear #Doll #Puppet #poets of tumblr #story #Elsewhere

Addams family poem

To Tish

It’s a sacred and twisted thing our love

Made for each other like a matching glove

With buckles that trail up on either side

Like a straight jacket worn with love and pride

My darling you’re sublime in every way

Our love knows no bounds, but bound we do stay

Yours always, Gomez

By NutMegPoems

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Story Poems. Elsewhere Poems. Mental Poems. Other Writing.

-this has been reposted to my new poetry blog after tumblr nuked my old one

#NutMegPoems #the addams family #gomez addams #morticia addams #gomez and morticia #poem #love poem #story

Druid chant

Ashes to ashes and dust to dust.

Live if you can but kill if you must.

Blood to blood and pain to pain.

We die here now, but shall rise again

Earth to earth and bone to bone.

We take their souls for taking our home

By NutMegPoems

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#druid #rawpoem #nutmegpoems #story

The girl with Lilly white hair

She woke to the sound of marching, The girl with the Lilly white hair. she woke to the sound of marching, but when she rose there was no one there.

She ran to the sound of warfare, the girl with eyes full of tears. She ran to the the sound of warfare, ran from her thoughts and fears.

She hid to the sound of screaming, the girl with torn fine lace. she hid to the sound of screaming, but no respite she found in this place.

She died to the sound of their laughter, the girl with terror in her heart, she died to the sound of laughter, as they worked to tear her apart.

By NutMegPoems

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#nutmegpoems #rawpoem #war #fear #hunt #insanity #story

The falling girl

In my dreams I’m falling Falling into the abyss In my dreams I’m screaming It feels like utter bliss In my dreams I’m laughing I never feel so alive In my dreams I’m searching Mostly for a reason to survive In my dreams I’m crying the closest I get to dead In my dreams I’m dying But I know that it’s all in my head

By NutMegPoems

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