Dark Poetry

Revolting Offerings


In my frozen state of being,

The harsh weather out there feels like a blessing.

Unfeeling, unmoving, unfathomable –

I often come across as an empty vessel.

My ugly hues bleaches all I touch,

Asking, wanting for love was too much.

Confusion arises all too frequently –

How long does one roam the Earth to be happy?

Questioning my existence, questioning my being,

I don’t know what to believe anymore –

The silence is deafening.

Wilting under the touch, the glare of others,

I melt into a kind of nothingness –

Reduced to being waste; an unwanted matter.


Wandering aimlessly, you run your mouth,

not understanding about the love you speak, the love you willingly want to give out.

Sometimes giving something when it’s not wanted is a burden,

can’t you see, you’re making yourself a nuisance?


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