#Dark Poems

[vampressart]

[splattered-ink]

Open up my chest

and keep my heart for yourself

Snap my ribs to take what's yours

Replace your heart with mine

To anyone but us

The sight would be most barbarous

But between you and I

There has never been

A more intimate affection

Kiss me

Breathe into my lungs

There is no need for it

Watch my lungs fill

With stale, useless air

Pry open my skull

Sink your sinful fingers into my mind

Entangle yourself within my thoughts

They were only ever yours

Eviscerate me

Pick me apart, meticulously

Stain your existence with me

No one will know you

Without knowing me first

Intertwine your veins with mine

When you have finished

Covered yourself in red

Filled your every pore with me

Claimed what you desired

Leave my entrails wherever

I have no need for them.

[vampiresdark]

IG: vampressart

[ghostybat00]

My desires to just tear your skin and appreciate every beauty of crimson drop and flesh It gives me the beautiful feeling of love as red as you organs.

Start with elegant movements, I savor every beautiful piece of your soft skin in my mouth.

I know our love is so deep and connected that now I will have a piece of you forever, dear.

I head excitedly to your beautiful chest cavity, gently with my hands I tear off your delicate and whitish bones, with a numbing delicacy.

Your beautiful heart is exposed to me, pumping blood as red as our love so deep, that soon apart from my lips it will be in my mouth and stomach.

Then I turn to your red lips and I kissed you so passionately that I tore off your beautiful skin on your lips, how delicious.

Now your kisses and lips will be with me forever.

[yeet-saintlaurent]

Dandelions of the Midnight // The Garden of Seasons

My collarbone that once cradled her breath,

Now yearns the warmth that stirred this hollowed chest.

I plead—

sink your fingers through my ribs,

Find it: a garden, a grave under a weeping willow that bleeds.

I beg of you; She’s still in there,

Show mercy to the seasons,

If you even care.

Her words, sung the hymns of Spring,

Her heart is a Summer that never ceased.

Her eyes envied by the bluest skies.

Her scent of florals made the roses shy.

Even as Autumn stole the flowers’ life,

It’s still the garden I water every night.

Winter laments ; nothing ever grows from the tears given to snow.

Another season to bear is another hand to hold.




Irregardless, on midnights when the wind is still.

Alone in the garden I sit and serenade

to the birds that fled,

to the blooms that slept,

to the memory of her,

pinned to the willow where it’s kept.

A garden, once lush and alive,

now cradles a grave—

Carries whispers to the stars above,

aching for Spring to wake the one I love.

~Dan

[loveletterstoadirtybastard]

De-Con-Struct

Deconstruct me Take me apart piece by piece Until I am nothing but a beating heart Pumping full of blood And love for you Deconstruct me Until I am nothing but a thoughtless brain Consumed by nothing but empty dreams And thoughts of you Deconstruct me Until I am nothing but a shell A body made for you And only you

[irl-marlenemckinnon]

I watched as tears streamed down your face as you called yourself a monster,

All I saw was a little boy underneath that jumpsuit who sulked because his zipper was stuck and it couldn't come off.

[bluemartiann]

I can’t write

I haven’t in a while

All I do is torture my mind

And save my heart

I distract

And fall apart

I see then sleep

And feel,

My feelings are something I put on the left burner,

Every morning when I’m making myself

A cup of tea.

[lumi-blanc]

No. 168

His image occasionally haunts me. A profaned name that I refuse to speak. Violation, forever etched in to my skin. Yet, I delight in these visits. His mewling is no match for my eternal contempt.

[coffeexxcigarettes]

AFK

-

Blood hits the back of my throat,

Filling my senses with urgency.

I lean forward,

My shoulders trembling with

Memories.

I'm not in the bathroom of my home,

I'm in that living room on 4th street.

Your boots hit my ribs,

With white flashes of heat.

I can feel the wall,

I can hear myself gasping-

And then I'm back in the bathroom.

My ribs are sore,

Shivering in my body.

The blood splatters my sink,

My lips pale.

I look in the mirror-

I am 26 now. And I am safe.

I am safe.

I am safe.

x

[from-the-dead]

Blood floored marble and shards of red glass,

Each step burning flesh, gleaming veins like brass;

The walls are whispering, longing, screaming for me,

As I take my seat on the old vast throne

My hands have crafted from ashes and bone.

My home, my empire

Pillars of dreams shrouded in black fire,

Never nourished, never silent

Like a famished snake, always consuming

- There is no going back from this.

Yet here you are like an angel to my prayer,

Patiently, withstanding my scorching glare

Why don't you run?

Your face doesn't flinch from my chilling touch,

As if mine were not born from theft

Have you not known fear before? Or have you known too much?

When I pull my hands away you don't notice the blood they left -

Is it yours or mine?

I don't care, for it is true

It looks so beautiful, ethereal on you.

And for a moment, the snakes turn to rust,

My pillars shatter and my throne disrupts

And all the wishes I have never named

Flow in with streams of emotions never claimed;

But I don't mind the destruction coming nigh,

I will rebuild it in the blink of an eye.

Though for a moment I can breathe and be

And feel the gentle breeze sing around me;

Winter never felt so warm.

Let me hold you for another minute

As the world dissolves in its gruesome form

And only you and me are left to watch

The foundation from which hope is born.

[vampressart]

[splattered-ink]

Leave.

(please dont.)

I don't want you here.

(please.)

I hate you.

(i need you.)

You're so fucking annoying.

(don't listen to me. please)

Get away from me.

(I'm so sorry.)

I don't need you.

(i do.)

[stillgrowingwildflowers]

we bury our love like we bury the dead

a sudden goodbye. a twinge of regret. then we forget about it. forget the smell of it. the taste of it. the sound. the feel. the whole of it. like the first warm thunderstorm in spring. a mountain trail at midnight in july. a golden misted sunrise. we bury our love like we bury the dead. they go back to the earth and we forget they existed.

— whereshegrows (the worst of me)

[harmonyhealinghub]

Edgar Allan Poe: Unraveling the Mastermind who Revolutionized Horror Shaina Tranquilino October 28, 2023

When it comes to horror literature, there is one name that stands out above all others – Edgar Allan Poe. Born in 1809, this enigmatic American author left an indelible mark on the world of literature with his dark and mysterious tales. With his unparalleled ability to delve into the depths of human psyche, Poe's work has forever transformed the genre of horror, inspiring countless authors and filmmakers over the years.

Poe's Unique Style:

Edgar Allan Poe was a master of creating an eerie atmosphere through vivid descriptions and chilling narratives. His stories were often characterized by themes of death, madness, and the macabre, leaving readers on the edge of their seats. Unlike other writers of his time, Poe refused to shy away from exploring the darker aspects of human nature.

The Birth of Detective Fiction:

Apart from his contributions to horror fiction, Poe is also hailed as the pioneer of detective fiction. In fact, his character C. Auguste Dupin was a precursor to famous detectives like Sherlock Holmes or Hercule Poirot. Stories such as "The Murders in the Rue Morgue" and "The Purloined Letter" showcased Poe's keen analytical mind and introduced readers to deductive reasoning long before it became popular.

Psychological Depth:

One aspect that sets Poe apart from other authors is his exploration of psychological depth. He delves into the darkest corners of human consciousness and exposes our deepest fears and desires. This penetrating analysis resonates with readers even today, making his works timeless classics.

"The Tell-Tale Heart," for example, showcases how guilt can drive a person insane. The narrator's obsession with a single eye reveals not only their own deteriorating mental state but also serves as a metaphor for humanity's hidden sins lurking beneath the surface.

Legacy in Poetry:

While primarily known for his short stories, Poe's impact on poetry is equally significant. His haunting and melancholic verses have become celebrated works in their own right. Poems such as "The Raven," "Annabel Lee," and "The Bells" continue to captivate readers with their lyrical beauty, evocative imagery, and exploration of themes like love, loss, and the inevitability of death.

Influence on Contemporary Horror:

Edgar Allan Poe's influence on contemporary horror cannot be overstated. Countless authors, filmmakers, and artists draw inspiration from his unique style and themes even today. The dark atmospheres, psychological depth, and twists that have since become synonymous with the genre owe a great debt to this literary pioneer.

Poe's Legacy Continues:

Despite facing personal tragedies throughout his life and enduring financial struggles, Edgar Allan Poe left an indelible mark on literature. His work continues to resonate with audiences worldwide, captivating us with its eerie charm and immersive storytelling.

Edgar Allan Poe forever changed the world of horror through his masterful writings. His ability to explore the depths of human fear and obsession has influenced countless authors who followed in his footsteps. From his chilling tales of suspense to his introspective poetry, Poe remains an icon whose legacy will continue to haunt our collective imagination for generations to come.

[loveletterstoadirtybastard]

Skeleton

Your bones are cold. Let me warm them with my skin. Let me wrap my being around you. Let me become your flesh.