Warning: This short poem/story contains E d g y themes- yea okay it references self harm so read at your own risk.
Poems sealed within bottles and cast into the ocean flow from the cracked damn of your eyes. Rolling down the hills, wordlessly telling the untold stories in your broken mind, for all around to see. You try to hide it but you can't. The salty ocean tears burn your eyes with a fire like fresh silver on scarred flesh, carving hidden emotions and craving the scarlet drops of adrenaline satisfaction. The sickening smell of the mossy sea throws mud across your ideals. They know. We can't hide any longer. For they have tattered journals with endless pages on the underwater monsters lurking inside, the blood-lust of the parasitic urges and impulses. We can't hide. They want to teach us to care for these monsters. Caress them and show them another feeling- another way. Train bad habits to turn into beneficial exercises. Observe, for the monsters have the poisons, but they have the antivenin- the cure- the help we so desperately crave but are unsure of how to inquire- to acquire the bottle and cast away our vile temptations.
YOU ARE READING
Stories or Somethin
PoetryYes the photo of the book is of a dog. His name is Chip, he's my son, and I love him. Ok so- this is of random stories I come up with, like little short stories with no real background or anything- So it just kinda exists idk Obviously this won't up...
