by TJ Marie
An emotional experience of the dark side
Published on February 29, 2016
Sirens Call Publications
Women’s Issue 25
Theme: Things that go bump in the Night
Online Portfolio: http://www.writing.com/main/portfolio/view/snow_hawk
Lying on splinters of my jagged soul,
It is empty in here.
Free flow immersed in black hollows,
Of new kiss connection lingers
Long after the body is no more.
Swaddled in the depths of swirling black,
Cotton candy wonder.
Pointy bits dig into untouched flesh,
With pieces of tears streaming,
The weak flesh is grounded, down, down.
No escape for the weakened bone,
Invisible chains are forever in debt
To an unseen deity.
Stinking putrid flesh fills my nostrils,
With nostalgia of toxins flooding my brain.
I know now the existence of Hell is real.
Experience is more vivid than the useless stories.
Crawling, unable to straighten my bent body.
I can hear it, drip, drip, drip
The sound of madness rammed inside my head.
My hand feels my ailing cheek,
With a chunk of flesh within my flesh.
How can this be?
Toxic sin embraces my entire being.
Ping, ping, ping
What is the source?
Pandora’s box has been unleashed,
Ravaged by mischief with the,
Voodoo dance moving me, slithering, dragging.
Hell is real, my biggest achievement.