Succubus.The laughter echoes,through the hallwaysof your imagination,through the chambersof your heart,it rolls and roils inside you,like some great beast set free.The scream vibrates,up the very towerof your spine,along the surfaceof your pale flesh,it prickles and trickles inside you,like a spark over petrol.Her eyes pierce,into the marrowof your broken bones,between the layersof your empty veins,they slither and slit inside you,like a blade in the darkness.The house quietens,over the sludgeof your melted brain,between the hummingof your slurred speech,it shrouds and hides inside you,like the lid of a coffin.Their tongues caress your flesh,their nails scratch down your back,their teeth nip and bite at your thighs,their flesh is hot and wet and textured slidingThe whip cracks.The laughter was hers,the scream was yours,the eyes were hers,the house was yours,the demons played and danced upon your body,you won't remember anything tomorrow morning,except pain
Show me love.Playmy hearta love songin this sweet dark,tell me you love me,get me high in the park,raise a glass to this success,fall on me and tear me apart,wake me up with kisses and hugs,tell me goodnight with a show of your love.
Buried memoriesmirror tarnished andskewed under the falling snow,twisted perception
Cigarrete lips and sunset skies.Neon sunset smoking,autumn beach and gentle breezeplaying in your hair.Eyes sparkle like ice,glittering crystals behindan enshrouding fringe.Your lips like fire,taste of ash and your passionsmoke between our lips.Inferno above,as the heat overwhelms ussink into the sand.Neon sunset smoking,a cigarette between usinhaling the love.
Geek writes poetry.I'm not a poet of the greater sort,I'd put Skyrim before Shakespeare's sonnets,I don't study Poe (though I'm told I ought),I can't see a scene and make art of it,I am but a humble geek in hovel,with nutella crumpets and a laptop,I don't read great plays or classic novels,won't have the rhythmical acclaim Slash got,but my love, you know I love to dabble,like a Satanist friend of mine might do,I'm floating in a boat without paddle,I might die or get inspired anew,so darling please put up with what I write,I swear eventually I'll get it right.
Damaged but whole.He'd walk on fire to feel your warmth,and swallow the rain to dry your tears,he'd lose himself just to find you in dreams,and stand watch at night to ease your fears,he's a castle of sand and cigarettes,he's a halo bought cheap and second hand,he's the ring in the sea now forgottenbut he's the rough diamond buried in sand,see girl he's the guy who would walk to earth,just to kiss you on every sunrise hill,and when everyone else has turned and left,you know this boy will be stood by you still,so maybe he's not the least damaged guy,but girl he'll love you til the day you die.
You are...You are the lonely twig to my dead leaf,cuddled around each other forever,until one day raised by the drifting breeze,to perhaps be torn apart and severed,until we're collected as part of a sheaf,by strangers with warm hands, still together,placed into a casket of ash and death,our love set alight by matches and breath.You are the plectrum to my guitar string,caressing me softly or striking hard,and though sometimes I'm the sad songs you sing,you know you'll always be playing my heart,we've been in concerts and pockets with ringsand pearls but our love never grew dark,our hearts may be strong but this love is cursed,forever worried about who'll snap first.You are shadow to my pale sunlight,you come out to see me every last day,you help to cool those who find me too bright,I know how you bask in my longing gaze,and though we may be apart in cold night,we both dream of each others playful ways,despite this sweet love, we're both just dreamers,always it seems there'
Romance over lust.A brown rimmed iris spiralled with mistrust,a mane of nightshade strands with shadows dance,so press your tulips to the palm of handsthat bear the touch of romance over lust.Ripped clothes are made of holes dressed up with dustand talons garish in their shades so crisp,so claw and scratch the face around the lipsthat bear the touch of romance over lust.A lavish heart of cracks and inky crust,it's barely up to taking a caress,so cuddle up against this loving chestthat bears the touch of romance over lust.A brown rimmed iris spiralled with mistrust,that bears the touch of romance over lust.
Burning pictures.Watch those pretty pictures set on fire,watch how they all set alight,the memories crumple on my pyre.The sparks may prick me as thorns on briar,but the pain is to my delight,watch those pretty pictures set on fire.For every time you screamed I'm the liar,and I never put up a fight,the memories crumple on my pyre.For every day I refused to tire,and gave you hope, I gave you light,watch those pretty pictures set on fire.This love was ours, I raised you higher,you pushed me down into the night,the memories crumple on my pyre.You took my innocence and desireto see their love or have my sight,watch those pretty pictures set on fire,the memories crumple on my pyre.
midnight bluebeneath the shimmering seais another worldsoaked in midnight blue
We're all fallen angelsWe’re all fallen angels, trying to fly with broken wings,We’re all fallen angels, bowing down to earthly kings.We’re all fallen angels, left staring at the sky,We’re all fallen angels, wishing the world would let us die.We’re all fallen angels, cast out of paradise above,We’re all fallen angels, unable to find love.We’re all fallen angels, bound to earth by unseen chains,We're all fallen angels, with tear-drops in our veins.We're all fallen angels, left bleeding in the snow,We're all fallen angels, and no one will ever know.
Take Me AwayPerhaps one day, I won't want to reach out for an escape,Instead I'll face the music, I hope it's soothing for my sake.This running is redundant, you see I'm running in small circlesNot heading in any direction, less speedily than a dying turtle.Self destruction, my dear, what ever your chosen form may beHas a comforting fuzziness to it, it's addiction is the enemy.It feels good, because it's bad, what a confusing, musing messI decided not to repeat this mistake... alas I did!, I confess.Pass me that exit again, let me run away some moreThis out of focus life has become what I end up waking for.This reality is beautiful, am I just wasting all my time?Some days I say 'the hell with it, this life is none but mine'.© Rocio Belinda Mendez
NotI want to pluck off every one of her petals and leave behind the shell of a flower.He loves me. I want to rip out every piece of his hairand make him ugly,so she won't call him beautiful anymore.He loves me not.
windmillyour arms, open sailsgathering wind energyjust to keep me warm.
Diary dreamsI’m starting to realise thatflicking back through the pages in my diaryto scratch your name out with heavyblack ink doesn’t quite erase it from my heavyheart.
SightStars in the night skyI see beyond that and throughGreatness into darkness, I can flyHere above the earth I can see the truthThere is an angel that will love me until I die
A SongPlay me a song my will heart will singA song to set me freeA song of tears, hope and freedomA song of laughter, sorrow and painSing me a song that will set me free,Free from my prison of tears.Free from the hatred of loves and lives lostFree from the hell that surroundsWrite me a song to express my painAs the words bleed through the pageAnd maybe they’ll take my pain with themDrip down to the cold dirt belowImagine me a song that could break all our chainsThe chains that hold tight our heartsAnd maybe then we’ll love once againLeave behind the past and the scarsPaint me a song, words dripping like bloodAs they mix with the cold pouring rainAnd stain our tormentors with the pain that they causedPaying back what they wrought seven foldSketch me a song with your plans for revengeAnd we’ll design torment of our ownCausing scars and torture and agony for thoseWho will finally feel all our painPreach me a song that shows how we’re wrongHow we&
Untitledthere was once a girlwhose heart was as big and as bright as the sunbut even the sun dies out eventually.
On My Journey Through LifeI came upon a broken flowerin the endless sea of myintoxicated personality,and I watched it for a while.Looming over head,I thought to weepfor Life’s reckless handin this tragedy.But in that momentit occurred to methe beautyof Life’s tragedy.That we are all but broken flowers,and I am one too,the passing of a birthrightto me as well as you.
UnexpectedFalling in love Falling for you was the last thing that
JealousySomedays the monster lies in wait for me.Biding its time, it rears its ugly head when I least expect it,Scattering my reason to the winds.I invented a locked room to keep it from me.ClickClickClickLike mist, the monster seeps out.I constructed a labyrinth to hide the monster inside.But it built the walls and winding halls right beside me.It knows the route better than I do.***Wandering the twisted halls,I am lost - My cries for help bounce around emptily.The monster laughs at my pitiful attempts.I try to open the lock that i had built and trapped myself with.RattleRattleRattleBut the monster has installed bars while I sat oblivious.I lie on the floor, knees clutched to my chest.The monster is everywhere. No escape.I pray that soon it will relinquish its control.***Silence. Not a sound.I lie curled up, the isolation of the pitch-blackness all around me.Suddenly, footsteps.Someone walks to the door.RattleRattleClick.it swings open easily."Why
...i stand facing the windso i canfeel the world hitme at a 1000milesa minute,to provei can take a blowstronger thanyou.
Old Leather BibleGive me that old leather BibleThe one from my mama’s nightstandThe one with the worn out pagesTouched by her hardworking handsI know I could go buy a new oneOne that’s not tattered or tornBut they’re not the same wordsRead over by herIn church every Sunday mornNo, I don’t want much from this worldMy soul belongs somewhere elseBut a blessing, or two, surely would doThis aching heart some helpThey say victory comes in the morningAnd Jesus comes like a thiefAnd birds of a featherAlways flock togetherTill there’s not enough space in the treesSome people, they turn to the whiskeySome people, they reach for the pillsBut numbing the painIsn’t the sameAs lifting the burden feelsSo, give me that old leather BibleThe one from my mama’s nightstandThe one with the worn out pagesTouched by her hardworking handsI know I could go buy a new oneOne that’s not tattered or tornBut they’re not the same wordsRead over by he
Fake a SmileAs broken tears stream down my faceMy soul is lost without a traceBut I'll look down and fake a smile-No one needs to know my heart's in trial.
Tranquility.The rain comes again,trying to cleanse all of pain,but only drowning us.