poemsfromaworm

[poemsfromaworm]

In The Graveyard

What is life if not a paradox?

We spend all of it trying to make it make sense, find a meaning, a purpose,

But none of that matters once you are dead in the ground.

Please say there is more to life,

That these people had meaning in between those two dates on their graves.

Please tell me I have meaning,

That I have reason to go on and live like I might have a future.

[poemsfromaworm]

Footsteps fall behind me

One By One

The girl I left behind follows me

takes my steps

and knows my heart

I love her,

Even if she is wrong

I will always love who I used to be

Because she made me who I am

[poemsfromaworm]

Pets I want

I want a dog

And a cat

And a million plants

Or a frog

And a rat

Or a jar of ants

Maybe a snake

And a bird

And a big tank of fish

A potted mandrake

Ducks in a herd

Or a cricket for a wish

I do love creatures

Oh yes i do

Although some may brawl,

I love all their features

My home will be a zoo

I will have them all.

[poemsfromaworm]

When I fall in love

When i fall in love,

It ends it pain

So when i see a white dove,

I must refrain

From reaching out,

For it is in vain.

And because of my doubt

I will stand in the rain,

Thinking about past lovers

That have left quite a stain

And stay clear of others,

Who might end up the same.

[poemsfromaworm]

Sickly

I watched in confusion as I saw what seemed to be fully functioning people going about their days as if there hadn't been a nuclear bomb dropped on their country half a decade ago. There was no way anyone but me could've survived, because I was the only one in the bomb shelter that day. I just had a feeling something bad would happen. I jumped as I heard a knock on the door to my apartment. I crept over to peek through the peephole. It was my daughter! She survived! But how?! I quickly opened the door to her warm smile and caring eyes. "Hey dad! How are you today?" I pulled her into a hug while i smiled wide at her presence. "H-how did you survive? The bomb..." I trailed off as she pulled away with a pained look on her face. She spoke in a soft voice, "Dad, there was no bomb. You have schizophrenia." My smile slowly faded. "What? But... then why didn't you tell me sooner? You should've told me, I've been thinking you were dead for almost five years!" I spoke loudly, annoyed and confused. She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Her voice was louder, almost angry. "Dad. You have dementia. Every time I tell you, you forget. I've been trying to tell you for five years, I've tried so much. I'm not going to give up. I will make you remember. But for today, I have your meds." She handed me a small white tablet pill and a small blue and white capsule. I stared in shock as she took my hand and put the pills in it. She walked to my refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of Gatorade (not sponsored). She cracked open the lid and handed it to me also. I smiled at her and downed the pills quickly. I trusted her, and i just wanted to make her smile. She looked at me in a bittersweet smile before telling me goodbye and leaving. I didn't understand what she meant by anything. I sat down on the couch and turned on the television. I saw a news story about a presidential debate and quickly got lost in the political views of the news program. Once the news program ended, I walked over to to my window and watched in confusion as what seemed to be fully functioning people going about their night as if there hadn't been a nuclear bomb dropped on their country half a decade ago. There was no way anyone but me could've survived...

[poemsfromaworm]

The Wendigo

The breeze aggressively shook the branches,

Though nothing could quite hide

The sight of the creatures advances

Through the deadly moonlight.

As he stalks his meek prey,

You pray you will not fall into his cross hairs.

You glance away,

He is not there, in place of his figure a hare.

He calls to his venison meal,

Coercing it to him

He is a master of this deal,

Manipulating others to his every whim.

The horror unfolds.

The blood and gore.

The deer is in his hold,

Calling out for help as his flesh is tore.

He is merciless, ripping and consuming

You are frozen in place, horrified by this whole ordeal

He spots his next meal, weak and unassuming.

You close your eyes, realizing you are about to become the Wendigo's next meal.

Ahh the first post on this Tumblr and the first bit of poetry Ive ever shared with the internet.

@jadeissues thank you for inspiring me, and here is a bit of dark poetry I wrote.

It's a bit gruesome but I quite like it. Anyways thanks for reading this whole thing!