seomra scríofa

haiiighh"!!! bí ag léamh mo .. litríocht.. anseo!!!

on My obsession with torture

shatter into splinters My weary limbs
part My disgusting flesh a thousandfold with sewing needles
eviscerate Me, extract My entrails
erase My physical form
so that it May never crave that unearned intimacy again

Settling

Strip back the Sum of her restraints:
a thousand Sorries a thousand Seconds too late.
Shackled by regrets and wishes,
lies that broken girl, Sobbing, Scarred, Scared, in pieces.
unable to Sieze that most divine Solace or that most dismal fate

Regrets

i split her skin with scissors
i open and close them to rip up her innards
"i'm sorry", in a hushed tone
but a million sorries couldn't undo what's done

Wishes

please let me be yours
not out of dependence but out of real love
let me fill your heart with song
as you did mine
just one more time

The ladder

i was waking up every morning to find i had fallen further further further and further still.
but each rung of that torturous ladder looked the same:
i did not know how far i had fallen,
nor how far i had brought her with me.
the splintered bars were lacerating our hands,
our arms weary from supporting each other's weights, as well as our own.

until she looked UP,
and urged me to do the same

Roses

Two girls walk in a garden thick with rosebushes,
(no space to stand lest one is within the bushes themselves.)

The first girl fixes her attention on the beauty of the roses,
Which are out of reach above their heads.
She is blind.

The second girl fixes her attention on the pain of the thorns,
Which surround them to every side.
She sees the truth.

The girls are hurt not by the thorns but by each other,
(they must forget both the roses and the thorns.)

The Princess of Rot and Decay

Her muscles are stiff, her flesh livid and marbled,
Her face bloated beyond recognition, frothing at the eyes and mouth.
Through one cheek her teeth are visible,
Their yellowish-white colour matching that of the exposed bones of her right leg.
Stringy pieces of flesh barely cling to her left leg,
Supplementing the contrast with her pristine left arm and breast, marred only by blisters.
Her right arm and breast decay and waste away actively,
Harassing those around with a pungent odour of death, which attracts only the worst attention.
But her soul grows only more pure as her body is broken by its environment.
She glows underneath it all, as her will and humanity are unbreakable,
Though now her only company are fungi, maggots, and flies.

I came upon her in the woods that day,
And in the horror of her visage I still saw a beauty,
And in her eyes ringed by gaseous foamy tears I saw a light in the lack of one,
And in her return to nature another kind of beauty,
Such that her rotting flesh appeared the most beautiful thing in the world,
And that, though I had embraced her in life,
I could now do naught but watch her in awe and adoration,
Lest I disturb the environs growing within her body.
And there I stood, in love with the Rot as much as with her,
And thus now I feel I bear her tiara,
And her blessing that others mistake for a curse,
As I rot alongside her

A future of the past that will never now come to pass

I saw us on a flowery golden wedding day,
Robed in our matching bridal dresses,
My figure tiny in your arms, my beauty outshone only by your own,
Our lips touching before the light of the divine,
And uniting us still more forever.

I saw us in a rainy western garden,
On the coast of the Galway Gaeltacht,
Outside a house we could finally call our own, a pair of rings on our fingers,
And retiring each night to the home we made ours,
To sleep peacefully in each other's arms.

I saw before myself your face,
Still sound asleep, every morning,
No more than a metre from mine, the warmth of our bodies mingling under the covers,
As guard against the cold weather over there.
And in these visions we were happy.

The princess's tears

She bruises and burns and scars, but may not cry
Her tears are locked behind cold eyes,
In spite of all she endures.
But even this beacon of elegance and grace,
This symbol of beauty and longing,
Must some time clear her mind of strife.
And when those tears fall they are the sweetest nectar
To she who tastes them.

Why did you let her suffer if you loved her?
Why did you drive her deeper?
Why did you quench your thirst with her tears?
Why did she let herself suffer like that?
If it brought no happiness to you,
And still less to herself

Dementia patient

Her final passing still left us bereaved,
But she had been dead to the world a long time.

She was kept overlong by selfish greed.
She must have been relieved, then.

dán gan teideal

bogadh bláth álainn sa ghaoth
i má cloch mhaoth
tá sí ar shíochán

ach caillean sí deoir amháin
toisc gur fada léi uaithi an gairdín

my paws are so soft and tiny

I am so small and frail.. ough.. I am a fragile broken girl in a , rough and scary world!!
I, tiny corpze kitty in a glass ball.. with hazards all around.. only the glass is protecting me!!!!!! It will break,,
I want zomeone to break the glazs ball and pick me up and hold me in her arms.., to protect me.. but to keep me there in her arms this time., instead of dropping me again for her own entertainment.. .. :((

Burning Heart

My heart is like .. a metal can with flammable materials in it..
Smouldering.. no open flame.. but if u blow into it sparks come out and it flares up a bit..
Burning with hatred.,
Someone please cut it open and put out the fire..
Pleaaase

It's hurting me..

Hate

I don't want to hate her
I want to love her

We loved for the first month
We loved for the second month
We loved for the third month
We loved for the fourth month
We loved for the fifth month

There was nothing after that

I don't want to love her
I want to hate her

Another One About Rot

I touched the can and felt bits of my flesh stuck to it
The decay gets worse with every passing moment
I don't miss what I once was, but what I could have been
Now I'm just this hollow rotting corpse, who will never be anything else.

emesis

I just have to watch as my insides spill from my mouth and dirty the floor.
They're disgusting.

And what can I do but apologise:
Weak after throwing all that up but repulsive to anyone stronger.

Staring into a pool of vomit and apologising.
Forever and ever

return to reception.. enough reading!!