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dagger

libragirllibragirl Posts: 4,632
edited October 2005 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
Forced down…..

degraded

Feels so good to him….

Feelings that are true but are ambiguous

Say one thing

And do another

Motives undefined

He doesn’t realize what’s brewing inside of her

Her love wrestles with the hate that’s growing

Once they resided separately…now they intertwine

Until one day she buries the dagger deep in him

Twisting it

He looks upon her in confusion

Oblivious to the damage he’s done

She recognizes his blind eyes and see’s herself in them

Horrified as she looks down on her bloodied hands

What has she done?
These cuts are leaving creases. Trace the scars to fit the pieces, to tell the story, you don't need to say a word.
Post edited by Unknown User on

Comments

  • twin2twin2 Posts: 894
    That was really cool. It's one that makes you really stop and think. It gave me chills a little bit too.
  • libragirllibragirl Posts: 4,632
    Thank you. I really like your poems.
    These cuts are leaving creases. Trace the scars to fit the pieces, to tell the story, you don't need to say a word.
  • twin2twin2 Posts: 894
    libragirl wrote:
    Thank you. I really like your poems.


    Thanks for the compliment. It's appreciated.
  • depopulationINCdepopulationINC Posts: 2,074
    mental abuse causes heat
    termoil
    what is to come
    when blood starts to boil
    The only thing I enjoy is having no feelings....being numb rocks!

    And I won't make the same mistakes
    (Because I know)
    Because I know how much time that wastes
    (And function)
    Function is the key
  • Being EnlightenedBeing Enlightened Posts: 5,746
    Ooooo, libragirl!!!! I love it! :) And you reminded me of an oldie of mine that I hope you don't mind me adding in here. I just love, dark, stabby poems. :)

    Not Again 01/08/2004
    She heard the door close
    Knowing what it signalled
    Her heart hammered in her chest
    A sweat broke on her forehead
    Her breath quickening
    His steps approached her room
    She closed her eyes and braced herself
    Heard her door creak open
    Heard the four steps approach her bed
    Heard him loosen his tie
    Heard him unbutton his shirt
    Heard him undo his belt
    Heard him unzip and slide out of his pants
    Heard him slip off his boxers
    Heard him kick off his socks
    Felt him drinking her into his sights
    Felt his hands on her breasts as he spoke her name
    Her stomach churned at his touch
    Her mind reeled hearing his voice
    She pulled out the blade from under her pillow
    She plunged it in his stomach
    She pulled it out
    He dropped to his knees holding his gut
    She buried it in his heart
    She pulled it out
    He looked stunned and fell over on his side
    She snarled and jabbed it into his scrotum
    She pulled it out
    He gurgled and wheezed and twitched
    And she watched, motionless, until he stopped
    Then she sat on her bed
    Dropped the bloody knife to the floor
    Lay down and rolled over to finally sleep in peace
    Only to wake to the sound of the door closing again
    Forget your perfect offering, there is a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in. - Leonard Cohen
  • twin2twin2 Posts: 894
    Being Enlightened wrote:
    Ooooo, libragirl!!!! I love it! :) And you reminded me of an oldie of mine that I hope you don't mind me adding in here. I just love, dark, stabby poems. :)

    Not Again 01/08/2004
    She heard the door close
    Knowing what it signalled
    Her heart hammered in her chest
    A sweat broke on her forehead
    Her breath quickening
    His steps approached her room
    She closed her eyes and braced herself
    Heard her door creak open
    Heard the four steps approach her bed
    Heard him loosen his tie
    Heard him unbutton his shirt
    Heard him undo his belt
    Heard him unzip and slide out of his pants
    Heard him slip off his boxers
    Heard him kick off his socks
    Felt him drinking her into his sights
    Felt his hands on her breasts as he spoke her name
    Her stomach churned at his touch
    Her mind reeled hearing his voice
    She pulled out the blade from under her pillow
    She plunged it in his stomach
    She pulled it out
    He dropped to his knees holding his gut
    She buried it in his heart
    She pulled it out
    He looked stunned and fell over on his side
    She snarled and jabbed it into his scrotum
    She pulled it out
    He gurgled and wheezed and twitched
    And she watched, motionless, until he stopped
    Then she sat on her bed
    Dropped the bloody knife to the floor
    Lay down and rolled over to finally sleep in peace
    Only to wake to the sound of the door closing again

    Ok. This was a fascinating read. I don't understand the last part though. Was she just dreaming? How could the door close if she just used him as a human pin cushion in a way? Did his ghost get up and leave? Am I missing something? I'm not always the sharpest pencil in the box so can you please shed some light on it for me?
  • Being EnlightenedBeing Enlightened Posts: 5,746
    Puh, "not the sharpest pencil in the box", my ass!!!! :mad: You got the answer with your first question, my dear. :) I'm glad it left you questioning, it's meant to leave you wondering if it's real or a dream and really, it's an unending nightmare of sorts. Hope that helps! :)
    Forget your perfect offering, there is a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in. - Leonard Cohen
  • twin2twin2 Posts: 894
    Being Enlightened wrote:
    Puh, "not the sharpest pencil in the box", my ass!!!! :mad: You got the answer with your first question, my dear. :) I'm glad it left you questioning, it's meant to leave you wondering if it's real or a dream and really, it's an unending nightmare of sorts. Hope that helps! :)


    Oh. That's really cool. Great writing.
  • libragirllibragirl Posts: 4,632
    wow..that is really powerful BE.....I love it.

    Being Enlightened wrote:
    Ooooo, libragirl!!!! I love it! :) And you reminded me of an oldie of mine that I hope you don't mind me adding in here. I just love, dark, stabby poems. :)

    Not Again 01/08/2004
    She heard the door close
    Knowing what it signalled
    Her heart hammered in her chest
    A sweat broke on her forehead
    Her breath quickening
    His steps approached her room
    She closed her eyes and braced herself
    Heard her door creak open
    Heard the four steps approach her bed
    Heard him loosen his tie
    Heard him unbutton his shirt
    Heard him undo his belt
    Heard him unzip and slide out of his pants
    Heard him slip off his boxers
    Heard him kick off his socks
    Felt him drinking her into his sights
    Felt his hands on her breasts as he spoke her name
    Her stomach churned at his touch
    Her mind reeled hearing his voice
    She pulled out the blade from under her pillow
    She plunged it in his stomach
    She pulled it out
    He dropped to his knees holding his gut
    She buried it in his heart
    She pulled it out
    He looked stunned and fell over on his side
    She snarled and jabbed it into his scrotum
    She pulled it out
    He gurgled and wheezed and twitched
    And she watched, motionless, until he stopped
    Then she sat on her bed
    Dropped the bloody knife to the floor
    Lay down and rolled over to finally sleep in peace
    Only to wake to the sound of the door closing again
    These cuts are leaving creases. Trace the scars to fit the pieces, to tell the story, you don't need to say a word.
  • Being EnlightenedBeing Enlightened Posts: 5,746
    libragirl wrote:
    wow..that is really powerful BE.....I love it.

    Thank you, sweetie! :) But hey, we really came here to give props to this :) :
    libragirl wrote:
    dagger

    Forced down…..

    degraded

    Feels so good to him….

    Feelings that are true but are ambiguous

    Say one thing

    And do another

    Motives undefined

    He doesn’t realize what’s brewing inside of her

    Her love wrestles with the hate that’s growing

    Once they resided separately…now they intertwine

    Until one day she buries the dagger deep in him

    Twisting it

    He looks upon her in confusion

    Oblivious to the damage he’s done

    She recognizes his blind eyes and see’s herself in them

    Horrified as she looks down on her bloodied hands

    What has she done?
    Forget your perfect offering, there is a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in. - Leonard Cohen
  • libragirllibragirl Posts: 4,632
    wow..that was a good one..I haven't written anything this good in a while. I forgot it was on here.
    These cuts are leaving creases. Trace the scars to fit the pieces, to tell the story, you don't need to say a word.
  • libragirllibragirl Posts: 4,632
    What has she done?

    she is free from his degradation...

    released from his condemnation

    the blood slowly spreads out around him

    he is swallowed by it

    swallowed completely

    as the burden is lifted off of her

    tears stream down her face...

    she is happy at last.
    These cuts are leaving creases. Trace the scars to fit the pieces, to tell the story, you don't need to say a word.
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