his words fall on me, so heavily, i cracked my bones on the pavement and now there’s worry and little pieces of flesh lying dimensional to his regret
if i put up a sign “all is well” he will leave graffiti in places my heart should be
i sometimes awaken and wonder if my dreams were tucked away in his journal hidden, locked behind a key of code, with my image used as his anti-phishing security measure, as even i seem locked out of my own reality, at times
i am lost and he is the great gatekeeper of my maps and journeys
sometimes my voice bounces off his walls and forms new hells
i watch people gather in his mirrors conducting praise, they don’t see his ghostly shadow stalking
i wonder if they can see the moon? harvesting the cold fury solitude?
perhaps we all have sins to account for
the way i tiptoe over life, looking back at the god awful mistakes i have made
packing up accountability, until it collapses in on itself, forming a blackhole
and there in the center, you will find us.
that’s the only goTdamn place we can meet in the whole galaxy.
it’s no wonder i’ve grown accustomed to jumping into the deepest, darkest holes
with small intervals of “the sun is out, you made it through the night, do you wanna try and walk”
and after 48 hours of his explosive diarrhea which kept him quarantined to his bathroom – with many walks outside – I called the vet
I told them which location I wanted to go but they wanted to send me on a 6 Hour Rd. trip when my dog had diarrhea
“id like port orange please today if possy”
her: ‘we have one available in iron city”
me: “where is iron city, how far”
her: ‘do you want the address for Port Orange’
i’m fairly certain I’m living and suspended in a different dimension than most people
i got struck by lightning in my jeep all windows down arm out 80 miles an hour circa 2018
i’ve never seen so many arms of bands of lightning and the sound was so loud it was like something fell from heaven
i screamed “fuck” as my life literally did flash before my eyes
I could still see the lightning on the road as I was driving away
it was even more odd i veered into the middle lane the precise time it decided to touch down
millions of arms
my arm was still burning when I got home and I started googling if electricity was radiation and freaking out because I didn’t have any iodine in my house and still don’t
things have not been the same since
oh… the dog saw the vet yesterday and had his anal glands expressed
i was blaming myself for everything that went wrong as he was i thought “dying”
he is so old his body is starting to shut down
he wants to be here, no matter how painful this gets
he may have to get his glands expressed again
I wonder when mommy will ever have a good day again
but then sometimes I realize I should probably be grateful that I even have this to tend to
i told him im not far behind
and i hope he greets me in heaven
since he will become heaven’s mascot when he arrives
he earned his wings down here
I kinda have been praying for this day to come and now that it’s arriving I don’t want it to come – I have guilty feelings for wanting my life back – to move on without him
ive made some moral mistakes
they are so hard to recover from
but also i’m starting to experience some tenderness in my kidney area and the medication just isn’t working fully
thought and prayers
p.s. she said there wasn’t anything I did and that I would probably need to bring him in again to get his anal glands expressed as it’s common for old dogs
i’m fucking exhausted after the week I’ve had and I know it’s 6 AM but I’m gonna smoke a fucking joint – it’s prescribed
Hi. My name is Delia. I follow/unfollow blogs. Sometimes I’m afraid to follow at all (even tho I want to). My comments are usually rude. I’m in therapy. K, thanx bye.
The day resets The bath grows cold He’s no regrets Said life is love But mostly debts Let luck manifold And you’ll have no sweats Little gold Cuz I stole success And you cannot fold
I’m off Twitter, deleted my account and data without requesting a copy
I’m not touching crypto or the Metaverse
I see Big Bro spent a shit ton of money so Instagram can now say “Meta”
Funny how the government told us gambling was illegal but then made every aspect of our lives about gambling and social media is no longer a social aspect
There’s nothing social about it anymore
We are the products
And you better believe these top creators are paying to play because they’ve made a game out of it
And now I see famous actors collaborating with TikTok influencers 🙄
Because big networks have moved onto TikTok
And they for sure are paying to be in the FYP
People with checkmarks are the enemy and they hog everything
There’s nothing social about social media anymore
We were all played
And stop giving them your damn opinion on everything because they just use it against us!
If you’re gonna give your opinion at least get paid for it with something more than spam
ugg it’s 2 am, I was sleeping
But my nightmare awoke me but then reality was worse than my nightmare 😩
He was hung by the slope The sun was setting on every hope And wrapped in iron, the illusion of choice While succumbing to slaughter, very little to rejoice
Dreams were the thread by which he hung And surely regret saturating the tongue And in between chaos he circled the calm While hanging from reason, he slipped into psalm
And based on “the stench” comments and the fact the the cave was humid and he was sweating – leads me to believe he decomposed and his bones are laying at rest
But I want him out of that fucking cave
And I’d like to stuff Michael Leavitt in it instead 👀
Eye for an eye
(I wish I were better at things but I’ve only ever been average at most…)
I don’t understand my purpose here but it’s not India’s grand design
If you’ll excuse me, I need to go back to disassociating
Look at my ship (this is how you enter a black hole) 👀
Have you ever had your chest caught on the lip of the earth? And were you kicking in a panic reconsidering your worth? Have you ever been so hollow the upside down became your perch? And when all efforts were exhausted did you regret what you researched?
The story of how John Jones died in that cave hasn’t left my mind
Hands down, the scariest way to die. And he crawled into his grave. He tried Mother Earth on for size, and they became one. She wasn’t going to let him go.
Would you know that Trent Reznor was never going to get married either and now he’s on like baby number 5 with MariQueen- I mean they have not stopped to take a fucking break.
I need some passion
*dies on street*
Rest easy my love
I’m not happy in my cage of loneliness. But I’m also just fed up with cheap sex, head games, and gaslighting.
I may very well be the last living creature who embodies the true free love spirit.
Ya me
*dies*
I’ve been searching for truth / and I haven’t been getting anywhere 🎵🎶🎵
Just didn’t want my love to be some sort of anchor that sinks your ship…
Mine has a few patched holes and may sink but you’re welcome to hop on board. It’s not a ship. More like some trash floating in the ocean I found to keep from drowning.
If you want some life advice?
You don’t have to live with your choices forever. And you don’t need to make new permanent ones.
You don’t actually have to sink with your ship and it’s okay to save yourself.
People grow and people change and they grow stagnant in their relationships and complacent and that’s why the love dies. You have to work at keeping the love alive and people aren’t really capable of doing that, some people are, some people have mastered it.
Love is a garden you gotta continue to water.
Stuff doesn’t make you happy.
Love is all you need?
I would really like a chance to find out. 😏
I’ve literally never been loved. By anyone. Or anything.
But hey, I recognize you. Or sorrow.
If I’m just some fling thrill ride, you don’t gotta cut my fins when you are done do you?
Can you be the one guy on Earth who doesn’t hurt me? And on purpose? Because you’re bored? Or soulless and evil?
I’m trying to find a safe place.
If you’re hurting, I’m sorry. I hope you find resolution. And peace.
You deserve happiness. Love. Fireworks. All the things.
A tired but clean peach. I recently started a new workout routine and you can watch my progress on Instagram. See the uncensored photos on my OF. I’ve just introduced nude digiart on my OF! I’m still in the top 50 so thank you! 💞
Thanks for checking out my work and for supporting Independent artist!
(Do you reckon Edgar Allan Poe ran off of any of his wives suitors with a shotgun? I mean, he wasn’t very popular. The local press even stopped publishing his work. He went from a respected officer in the military, to poor, dead, and naked on the street and possibly poisoned, and heartbrokes).
I don’t want to die heartbrokes. Helps. 😭
Sometimes I run off your suitors with my mouth. 😭
Psst did you know my love keeps growing for you? I am a deep, wide ocean. Keep swimming. I’m yours, forevermore. xoxo (times infinity^2)
Staring up from down below Heaven fell further than I know The wind gets cold Like regret growing old With a heart of stone Set in gold Or hearing whispers “I told you so” Where are angel’s not to go? God told me to love him whole The sinner yes so I tread his road Ready to take on intruders, I’m bold He says friend, I say foe There’s complications in the fold Missings cards like hands, I need him though Dropping SOS’s where his feet have strolled Sights to behold Or heartaches sold
To be honest, I just wanted to keep going with this rhyme flow. I gotta stop putting on the breaks. I’m feeling pages, can you roll?
Moonstone if you’ve ever wondered. I wrote an essay in college once on the healing properties and energetic properties of stone and blew my professor away. I’m going to get back into to meditation sessions soon. Just trying to find my self-esteem and what’s left of my pride after my last nuclear meltdown. I’m radioactive. And collapsing in on myself.
This goes without saying but, I get insanely jealous of the attention he gives other girls. Like black jealousy. And my doctors at the VA don’t understand this kind of love or obsession. They don’t even understand why I’m scared of asteroid Apophis. Whatever. You can’t cure these things. Love is the only acceptable remedy. He just needs to kiss me. Shimples.
I’m on the Patreon, if you dig my writing and photography or digiart, there’s loads of EXCLUSIVE CONTENT up! You get cool perks for pledging and I get to keep writing and running my blog advert free! I really like writing! I’ve been practicing my art since I was a little girl, thank you for giving me the opportunity to do it professionally!
I can’t get him to block me back no matter what I do. I don’t purposely seek out rubble, it’s just sometimes a huge chunk breaks off me like a boulder and starts rolling down and crushing anyone in his path. And as I’m tumbling down the hole of despair, he’s still there. Picking up all the little pebbles and tucking them right into his heart.
So yeah, I found another way to scream I’M DROWNING, while in a spiral downward. I clawed him all the way down, too. Landed right back by his side in pieces.
I’m staring up from down below. Wondering how many times I have to start again. As his rope begins to descend. Was that not my end?
This is why poetry exists. Edgar Allan Poe lost the love of his life and literally died in the street and I have some of his previously, unpublished words he wrote for her tattooed on my ribcage.
Edgar Allan Poe and the words he wrote his true love after she died. And then he died. In the fucking street. Naked!!! At only age 40! 😭 Older photo of my Edgar Poe tat when it was healing “My love is lying” me too Poe!! But in a different way!! “I must weep alone” same same!!! 😭
So what does all this mean?
I’m having difficulty living without him and don’t want to die in the street?
I’d like more tats. They were getting super strict about tattoos in the military. But now that I’m out, I can work on getting some visible tattoos once the Jeep is paid off (on my last 2 payments). Everything cost the moneys I don’t have. Join my Patreon! 🙏
I need better photos of my Edgar Allan Poe tattoo and I also want to get some flowers around my hip and the poem.
Me no likey pains. Me wants pleasures. Take away me pain.
Real body, real person, real scars. I don’t want to remove my sex organs for plastic. Get over it. I’ve made it to age 42 without a single gray hair. ACCOMPLISHMENT. CHECKMATE. (someone has requested for me to get on the onlyfans but if you don’t mind the fact that I have a real body, I’m going to be starting a new nude cosplay tier on my Patreon 2021 (potentially). I’m not a model. I’m just yer average gal in a petite body trying to do extraordinary things. I have done’s. (I’ve had many guys body-shame me over the years for not having fake boobs or fake tans, nails, and hair for that matter). I guess I’m supposed to be this bombshell pornstar 24/7 which is not what I am at all. They weren’t even good lovers. Let alone decent human beings. If I could do my twenties over, I would spend it making less mistakes with man. So now Ima do me for my final decade (and I’d be hella lucky to make it to 50 at the rate my body and mind is disintegrating). Thanks for seeing me and appreciating me while I’m alive. I’ve never gone pink or bleached my fine silks. Trying to keep my hair growing after I die… I don’t know how Gavin Rossdale would respond if I showed up at a Bush show with pink hair, he already adores the fuck out of me coming to his shows. I get the VIP treatment whether I do VIP or not. 😊
I currently have 3 tats, 1 on my lower back (also another excruciating part of the body due to your nerve endings), ribcage (Poe tat) and upper chest (super easy in comparison to the back and rib). My Edgar Allan Poe tattoo is my largest (and that bad boy is on my ribcage). I’m going to be getting some new tattoos in 2021!!! I mean, like if I don’t die. Which is literally quite easy to do.
I’m starting to get request for the onlyfans. But I don’t want to do any kind of porn acts. I asked them if they’d still be willing or interested if I did classy nude cosplay sometimes with Vampire elements and they said yes and be willing to spend 15 to $20 on that so. That’s good. Good that I’m starting to get requests & price estimates. I even took a screenshot for my self-esteem (of the request). So thank you, because I really want to get into the cosplay and I need some support for that. Costumes, fangs, makeups, gear, equipment. FOOD. GAS to get places. They discovered my Insta! Hope the shadowban’s been lifted!!
I’m on the Patreon, if you dig my writing and photography or digiart, there’s loads of EXCLUSIVE CONTENT up (including photography you can use for your own projects)! You get cool perks for pledging and I get to keep writing and running my blog advert free! I really like writing! I’ve been practicing my art since I was a little girl, thank you for giving me the opportunity to do it professionally and to keep writing and making art!
He could know He could tear out the knot and tangles that we sew He could go He could block me eternally, still I glow Even when faint, to him, my light will show So I flow
Welp. Can’t get him to block my existence (yet). I can attack him under my pen, under my full name, under my social media accounts, under my email, on my blog, through poetry, he’s got the ultimate ghosting Poker Face, I’ve thrown jabs, gut-wrenching flaming bombs of blame, spat on his name (actually I don’t think I’ve done that, I actually wrote him a poem with his name as an acronym in the title and as a line in the poem, which was hard to do, because I’m madly in fucking love with him and was stupid enough to tell him on his goddamn fucking social media in private message like a fucking roaring lunatic).
It went like this. ‘Hi. I’m suicidal and might die. I wrote this for you. Just thought you should know in case I die’. I don’t think it went down very well. Do you reckon that’s how Edgar Allan Poe delivered his poems to the love of his life (who was his blood cousin but we can’t all be perfects). Welp.
Did I mention I’m not like other girls? I’m rather quirky, weird, and odd. I bite strangers on random; girls, boys, whenever the mood strikes, on a neck or wrist, with such delicate precision and precise pain, that all have been shocked by it, but always moved in a positive way, because it was a weirdly pleasurable experience for them. “You bit me”. “Ee, I kind of did, didn’t I? Oops sorry”. But, none of them have ever felt violated in any way and probably still recall on the experience (though I won’t know, because I don’t even know who they were/ are). I just do it at random. I haven’t really been biting people lately though. But the urges are there. I literally bite people’s girlfriends and boyfriends, but I do it in a non-sexual way, it’s hard to explain it. I do it as a greeting and then I disappear. Sometimes I stick around and chat for a minute or two because my presence will be requested. When I let people see my weirdness they’re impressed. Sometimes I use my brain to blow people’s minds in other ways. But very few are allowed around the real me. I can only say I have psychic abilities and ways to exchange energy and there are people out there who literally think I’m an actual angel who fell. I’ve done meditation sessions and I can know someone’s sign within 5 minutes of meeting them, it blows their mind, “but how” they beg to know”! I tell them I studied astrology intensely when I was 15 “but how” they’d ask! Well, with me mind. Third eye.
Men would have literally burned me at the stake or drowned me with stone tied around my ankle or some other heinous crime as a witch in the 1800s had I been around!
I’m a super sensitive creature and I don’t do well around a lot of people. Or maybe people at all. I like people I do. Sometimes. 👀
My skin and eyes are sensitive to light because I’m part vampyre.
And my skin is sensitive to certain metals because I have Lycan blood in me (I howl at the Moon and bite people on random beware).
Yes, people are scared of me. Boo.
I am a goth queen. I just look really fucking poor because I’m a proper Nosferatu. But I’m going to try to step up my Nosferatu image as soon as the Jeep is paid off and I can start buying black clothing again. I want to start a classy nude cosplay on my Patreon. Just had someone ask me to get on the OnlyFans (and I might reconsider it cuz I was on it for like 5 minutes but I wasn’t aware there was a fucking shadowban going on). I’ve also been tweeking my circle, and unfortunately my crazy ass has actually blocked patrons, so I’m literally kicking people out my life, because I’m suicidal and out-of-control apparently! Woo hoo rubber room y’all (I will escape. I escaped the facility in Alabama on more than one occassion and they had to change all their fucking rules because of me. I was 16 and on suicide watch half the time I was there but left the leader. I left the leader even though I escaped the building several fucking times and was on suicide watch. I AM SPECIAL. LIKE MY MIND IS STUPID POWERFUL YO.
I would just like to point out that I am not against sex work, I am against guys abusing the female population and I think sometimes my message might get lost in between my crazy ass behavior (I act out when I’m suicidal online because I feel very close to how Michael Hutchence did before he fucking tore up his body dying by suicide. Sometimes I want to take a razor blade and just go fucking crazy on myself so like I’m fucking unhinged right now, I know). THAT’S WHY I’M DISABLED. IT’S CALLED DEPRESSION. I WANT TO DIE. At least that’s what my thoughts keep telling me to do, which makes me cry about it, because it’s a really scary thing to think about and I don’t actually want to wind up like Michael Hutchence so I wind up attacking people online cuz I’m waiting for my knight to come save me I guess. It’s definitely not “in hospital care”, I don’t even know how they can call it fucking care, it’s fucking insanity. You go to the hospital, you say, “hi I’m thinking about killing myself and need some help” so they take your clothes from you and they take your phone from you, you can’t have anything that brings you pleasure, you can’t have any books, you can’t have any music, but you can have a Bible and big Pharma!!!!! I’m acting out. Sure. Because I don’t want to wind up like Chris Cornell, who was notifying his wife in the middle of his suicide act, via an app, which turned their bedroom lights on and off, and he did this after a sold-out show in a hotel room!!! I don’t want to wind up like my other heroes like Kurt Cobain or my best friend who died by suicide and every day it’s a battle to not fucking die!!!!
I’m not pretending to be depressed or suicidal. I’m a war veteran and I am being completely transparent about what I’m going through currently because I might die by this disease that I’ve essentially been battling my whole life but gets worse with every breath.
I don’t know what I would do if he blocked me back, I think I would actually fucking die. I’m a horrible person. I probably should die.
I don’t think I’m actually that horrible but some of my fucking actions are and make me really remorseful because I’m not a narcissist.
Every time I hurt him I just hurt me more.
But it’s a lesson I can’t learn because I keep hurting us.
I think maybe he should just fuck me. I think if I got laid half my problems would dissolve in an instance because I have like three years of writing this dude poetry and being insanely fucking madly in love with him and sometimes I’m a star collapsing under my own weight. Or he’s a black hole tugging me. Or I’m the black hole stealing his light. Or maybe we belong together.
Or maybe our love story is similar to that of dracul Vladimir Tepes. I’m trying not to dive off the tower like Mina did. Or, after he spends millenia looking for me, I have to end his misery only to be kept with my own (and still without him, tho the love won’t die). I fell in love with him, God won’t allow me not to love him, I was born loving him. This I know.
Edgar Allan Poe died without his love too. 😭
As soon as Johnny Cash lost his wife, he lost his battle to cancer. He gave up the good fight. 😭
I don’t want to live without him but I keep pushing him away! 😭
*sobs uncontrollably*
*the chances of dying in the street increased*
So on some days I’m ready to retire and on other days I’m ready to open up my nude Patreon tier. On some days, I want to die and on other days I’m living life.
Stay tuned. I’m bound to fall again. And again.
Some secrets I’m never telling. Be careful what the devil is selling.
Energy can’t be destroyed Iron gates can’t stop what God deployed A toxic giant void Overly paranoid Or just just ignored
They’re all for her Illogical Every single word I observe I’m just a neurotic girl He uses to rise and stir And I concur He wants forever Just in another world
I come But then I’m gone Lost on the run I understand But then I’m dumb I jump But then I’m stunned I speak Then tongue is wrung I won’t compete Unless I’ve won
All you ever care about is the life you built What is it but an island of guilt
You ripple the fabric of time Dropping poems like pebbles But who out there should feel each wave As if were all mine?
My love, I can’t block the fabric of time or my love for you. I’ve tried endlessly to. Cutting out the need like truth. I lie to do.
My love, I smell your fear and read it as silence. And while my hands are small they hold such violence. My light gets lost in your iris. But I would die for this.
Stop using me to bleed Cut you from my feed Amputate the need Your evil seed
Look at me all frail and pale A ghostly figure freckled with fright Look at all the shite I write It’s best if I stay out of sight
I block the channel But can’t stop the feed I numb existence Just not the need
Why do you give out your fruit To awful prey She’s dug a root You’re just her slave
I’ve had just about enough of this bandwagon Exiting stage right quickly to abandon Sick of watching other hearts you stuff and over fatten Meanwhile there’s a spotlight on every fault that’s ever happened
I’ve spent enough time following this circus To simply know this isn’t our purpose But your mask is her clown behind an ugly curtain And you’ll never change, this we know for certain
There’s a thick layer of doubt Enveloped over more doubt Hope is now in drought I’m lost en-route There’s no love about
He’s all beast in cardigan Lying every second if he can All over earth they span His name is man
I’ve got very fine silks growing from my head Still they call me dead
Leave me alone to rot Let hope decay Find my love an empty plot The cost too high to pay
You’re better than a pyramid scheme Riding piggyback over her every broken dream Her methods outdated and obscene She’s a copycat queen
I set myself apart Too many broken feet Trying to compete For the best of me I’m not meat For them to eat But they try and feast In a frenzy Still tied and chained To mistakes yet more they seek Well I’m not weak
You’re better than that wheel of fakery
Not your enemy Not your friend You got empathy Just not my hand
Not your ally Not your wife You got power But still cause strife
Not your favorite Not your worst You got popularity But I’m still first
Why are you still hanging out with that gang? Riding the fake ass gravy train Hopping bandwagon after bandwagon under her name She’s hoping for fame You’re missing your game
He’s got alot of money, he’ll even call you friend But he will only make you feel cheaper in the end He’s got alot of money, but not a spine for him to stand And I’ll kick his ass if he ever comes ’round here again
Safety ever an illusion Tiptoeing over delusion Frozen lakes of confusion This hand is for losin’
He doesn’t want me for himself He doesn’t want me with anyone else He doesn’t want me for himself He doesn’t want me
Tell me, when mountains crumble beneath your feet When you’ve got a tongue, but no breath to speak When your knees are trembling and you’ve fallen weak Is it ever me you think you need?
He won’t support me month after month for my work And he’s got more rooms than he can fill I’m tired of even trying When to the world I have no worth
I’m all nerve endings Pockets lined with anxiety
I am pen within pen Leaking under skin Bleeding from within Marching forward Chained to sin Our time is thin
If only words were removed from page And hearts were not full of grey I’d lift the sun in such a way Your burdens would just turn to ray And I’d be there with heart to say I love you every single day
There’s a good chance my poetry isn’t beautiful at all but it’s just how he makes me feel. Inadvertently, I mean. Because I am nothing and nothing is for me. 👍
Break the chain, break the link, don’t wanna be in sync The way your eyes and my eyes leak The way we talk but never speak The days prowl on and we are weak But life is cruel and so are we And I guess we are both guilty But neither life is a life free And that is why we’re bleeding ink
Couldn’t sleep because I’m dreaming of you (so I wrote this instead)… The love of my life. His name is Sam. He’s got some teeth issues going on, and other medical stuff, but he enjoyed our day out. Look at that smile.
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I’m now on Twitch! I’m going live again soon! Thanks for following me there! Hit my channel at: www.twitch.tv/poeeternal
What am I but rotting flesh worshipping the dead With a noose around my neck hung up on things you said Tireless were my efforts turning obsession into bread Knowing every hour there was darkness up ahead
What am I but skeletons for your throne A path to a garden where nothings ever grown A stage for your eyes where all my soul is shown Humiliation for despair now breeding in my bone
I miss coming up for air After your words would knock the wind out Even now the winter blizzard of your cold shoulder is predictable My cries and shivers numbs the void My face with permanent icicles And yet the sun will rise and the rooster crow And in a circle you will go
I miss when your tongue was a rogue wave How you made time another dimension Every syllable unearthing a treasure I will be your clown in a daze I am still a slave to your will Feed me scraps so I can feel
I miss the g-force rush of synchronicity Felt the Earth spinning with every metaphor and ending When caution was but a dark cloud passing And notifications were promises of heaven My lungs would fill with air after moments of dying Joy was the fuel that kept me from crying
The Earth took a tremble and shake With every lie you create Magma still flowing In the direction I’m now going
The sky took a breath with thunder in her chest and we’re both crying I can’t stop you though from spying But the stars have since been hiding We’re through trying
The Sun has changed his point of view With every breath that we drew And every crack you fell through This is how to stop loving you
If you dig my writing, you can support my advertisement free blog by subscribing to my Patreon here (please & thank you): https://www.patreon.com/poeeternal
I felt him swing from the heavens, into my heart he went And from the bowels of the netherworld, my soul came to ascent Our orbits must have collided, I have been feeling him ever since Collecting more than fraying feathers, I’m not that innocent
Watching him grow cold and devilish, while following his gradual descent Vision crossing planks of inability, I cannot stop these events Burning chains on regret, dragging around feet like they are blocks of cement The weight of consequence in this pit, the dead can still lament
I hope I haven’t misspelled any words, I have anxiety over that now lol. 🤓 It’s probably not about any one guy. It’s just a poem.But maybe they need to come with a disclaimer (it’s not about you I swear) 😄😃😄
Some videos featuring me and my dream to get to Mars! Watch for my name under candidates, this video gives me tears (my name is Delia Ross): https://youtu.be/SwT4pTusyVw
My Facebook Mars Candidacy page will have more info buried over the years with more vids, links to a podcast I did, Mars One updates when I was still a candidate in the running! I’m obsessed with Mars if you haven’t guessed by now… Feel free to follow my page! It’s probably worth reading back the post from when I was a candidate with Mars One! 😄 https://www.facebook.com/deliatomars
A hat in Florida is imperative. Anybody out there keeping up with Elon Musk? He’s always got his hands into making Earth a better place but all of the profits are for funding to get to Mars. Like this hat. They are digging some futuristic tunnels in New York I think. The Boring Company. Clever. It’s a nice cap too, stitched logo, 100% cotton, velcro clapse, not plastic. He was selling it a couple years back during xmas. Twenty bucks and it included shipping. Profits for Mars I had to invest lmao. Any chance I can be a nerd but many won’t understand the logo. 🙂 He sold 50K hats LOL I gots 1. It’s for Mars dude. I’m trying to stay alive to see the first humans land. I wanna hitch a ride! 😄 https://www.boringcompany.com/
It’s not the best house but it’s definitely not the worst And if you think I’m worthless well honey you’re not the first And if you think I’m perfect well your bubble I’m here to burst And if you blame obsession I know I’ve got the thirst
I may not be a diamond but I’m definitely not a curse And if you’re wanting love well my heart left in a hearse I might have said I loved you once or twice in verse But if I stick around I’ll likely make it worse
Fallen Angel (self-portrait)I know I don’t matter. You made that clear. I don’t base my worth on you or my sometimes mistakes. People grow, people change. At least, I do. You’re likely holding onto versions of me that no longer exist. I’ve said my sorries, I’ve made my peace.
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I am not wanted on his side of the green And so moments are missing to never be seen But lines I’ll keep writing and say what I mean As forests keep growing with us in between And lost in the woods is hope it would seem
Sunlight won’t reach beyond regret And wishing for things you never will get When you have bet zero but still have a debt He says you are nothing but does with a sweat He says he’s not looking while eyes growing wet
And now vines contain our poetry And vessels of longing out on the sea My side of town he’s always burning Blaming the sun for how he’s yearning How he wants none if he can’t have all of me
Your words have sharp edges The tips are poison They pierce my skin like butter How easy they hit my heart You the Trojan Horse And your army of lies I dance for them like a buffoon Their laughter drowns my cries But still my head is to the moon I stare at wonder I remember hope It once was a playground I ran around with naivety They mock what they can’t control I am still free Going places with the stars They can’t touch me Words are arrows yes But feet are healing Truth my blanket Saturn knows and her rings Cracks upon my frozen face She knows That’s why her northern poles glow She’s crying, longing and cold But even wrongs need embraces And that’s why light-seconds existed Galaxies out there granting wishes I know more than you know
Block the cold winds blowing from the north Frozen in time mistakes keep you from moving forth Like the heavy winds from the north You stop and weap Holding down a crumbling fort Eight days a week You carry regret like a torch Reminder: time is short
After midnight poetry. Stuff in my head.
Open quarters Small circles Blown mortars Follow orders Closed borders Such horror
All blurs No cures Blood pours More tours Four doors His wars
I love the wonderful feedback about my poetry, that’s why I’m now on Patreon which is an excellent platform for writers and artist. Can you help me reach my goal? www.patreon.com/poeeternal
I love the wonderful feedback about my poetry, that’s why I’m now on Patreon which is an excellent platform for writers and artist. Can you help me reach my goal? www.patreon.com/poeeternal
What did I ever do for you to treat me so cruel Why are you a genius yet act like a fool Why is your life a valley of stool Why do you keep acting like you’re just a tool Why do you stay prisoner under your own rule Why do you keep lying as if it were cool
Why does my presence get under your skin Why does your lie always come with a grin Why was I never allowed to be your friend Why do you always take my heart for a spin Why do you consider losing a win Why do you spy on me if I’m just a has-been
Bleeding love for him, even beneath all the thorns of anger and hate
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Someone once asked me was that Hitler on my t-shirt… I should have said yes.
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I love you… do you ever think I’m worthy of love too? I’m lonely. Aren’t you?
If you dig my writing, you can support my blog by subscribing to my Patreon here (thank you my lovely Patrons, your support means everything): https://www.patreon.com/poeeternal
*update* I’ve been super busy making digiart, and I’m excited to begin posting some as perks for my patrons over on my Patreon soon, but I’m also super nervous as well. Anytime I expose my art, there is a degree of rawness to it. I feel exposed. And I’m also beginning to break through traumas and fears over there, where I feel a sense of privacy and safety. Grateful for the encouraging feedback I’m receiving from my patrons too! Been writing like mad too! I love you! Anyway, I hope you like my new poem! ❤
If you dig my writing, you can support my blog by subscribing to my Patreon here (please & thank you): https://www.patreon.com/poeeternal
There is no life in this blood Heartache rushing in like a flood My heart is buried in your mud And giving up, I would if I could
These streets are lined with people who are down Yet your hand is never one that can be found On broken backs you prance around And forgetting you, I probably should
It’s either burning bridges or half- frozen lakes And how to get through, I don’t know what it takes Sleeping pills or alcohol won’t stop the aches And all your meanings, well I clearly misunderstood
Good luck with her, her, her, and her (there’s 4 of them right?) I’m just tired of being an outcast and a fool for love. Reading your poetry and comments to girls is like falling straight into a cactus naked. I can’t do it anymore. I’m literally going to die if I get one more prick. Goodbye
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I have glimpses of a life I’ve never known There’s stitches in my heart where he has sewn There’s wishes leaking out of every bone There’s pieces of me in him I call home
There’s fences keeping eyes where they belong There’s chances never learning right or wrong And dances never settling in song Circumstances keeping everyone withdrawn
For the record, all my poems are new. I bleed poetry.
Mysubconscious or other worldy being is creating memories of a life with him that never existed because it can’t bear to live any part without him, and the regret is carving deeper rivers than I care to run. Love is love. But why is he scared of it? He’s just too selfish to part with his ways and he’s got a sex addiction he needs to get a grasp on. I mean God damn if Trent Reznor can be kinky and loyal why can’t there be other dudes!?! He’s the only guy I’ve ever asked to marry me by the way (Reznor that is) and it’s in the Nine Inch Nails archives somewhere and Trent Reznor did not say no and he answered my music questions too. That’s actually a nice real memory as opposed to the fake memories my brain is having to create because it loves a dude that won’t have anything to do with me…
I asked Trent Reznor to marry me, LOL I love me so much… that was back when he had an actual fanclub and he was active in the NIN message boards. You had to be in the club to get there. And when he did way with fanclubs, he made us permanent members (kinda of). I haven’t logged in, in a minute, I need to get over there. And to another gig. I’ve had stage every time, but have never officially met Trent. He’s on like kid number 5 now!?! She is popping out them babies god bless her, lucky bitch…Anyhoo, I’m totally gaga for the dude this poem is about, he knows who he is. Hi. I love you still. You know I’m your favorite love. Masks won’t hide fate. Or you from me. Sorry, not sorry. “I’m a creep, I’m a weirdo, what the hell am I doing here…”
What do you think an angels tear is worth? I’ve cried a million for him…
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I’m not proud of the things I have done Dropping verse like a hit and run Settling scores by the inch of my tongue Belittling others cuz they’re having more fun
I’m not proud of calling them names Dousing the fuel, igniting the flames Keeping him down and shackled in chains Changing the rules without knowing the games
With tiny feet I trample the heavens But take regrets and multiply by seven I caused you pain and my mouth was my weapon I made you cry in multiple sessions
I am sorry I pushed you all away For the trouble I caused and the endless heartache For the knife I inserted with every mistake For tossing stones instead of embrace
I don’t expect you to forgive me I just want you to know it made me feel empty And that pound of weight has turned into twenty And heavier now is this ink that is leaking
I need you to know I feel humiliated And maybe this apology has been long-awaited? Maybe none of us are where we are fated? Maybe tomorrow our hands are less weighted?
My door is always open and you are welcome here Coming together is what I wanted, not to disappear I’ve been looking for forgiveness and checking in my rear And I’m hoping maybe silence is more than you all can endear
So, I’m sorry. It may not mean much. It may not help at all. But, I am completely humiliated by my actions and accusations of other bloggers, and even the comments I have left here or on Instagram. Please forgive me if you can. My head and heart really were confused, and my actions did not match my character. My behavior is\was deplorable. I’m sorry I hurt you.
Regrets eek (self circa 2019)
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I never know he’s watching, But, I’m hoping, I’m hoping on, the rope that’s got me choking And tighter yet, the courage it takes coping When hanging from, the thread he strung, starts croaking And tighter do my hands become from groping Regrets like knots, have kept love from corroding Swaying bound, his eyes slowly approaching Enlightenment may be found with both eyes opened
Today is my WordPress anniversary! I’m not doing anything special to celebrate the day but I did take some snaps for you! With messy hair and a t-shirt. My basic, every day look. But now my hair looks messier than ever because my roots aren’t matching my drapes. BUT this is the year I am ATTEMPTING to love me as I am. And because I love me, I don’t want to put any more chemicals on my hair that I’ve been carefully growing out for nearly 3 years (the length of time I’ve been out of the Army). Once my ride is paid off, TATTOOS shall become me (I have 3 already). I would like some more piercings in my ears as well! Things I couldn’t do while serving honorably for 15 years!
I gave up lots of rights y’all probably take for granted. But now, I am attempting to enjoy those rights that y’all had that I didn’t have. And some folks don’t like that because it doesn’t serve their needs. But that’s okay too because this journey is teaching me who my real friends and family are. Who my real fans and supporters are. And exposing enemies wrapped like allies. And I appreciate those who allow me room to grow because there are many who are still holding onto versions of me that no longer exist. A narcissist may not be able to change but I can. I just wish I could forget a lot of the things they have done to me. Those things primarily being abuse. Anyhoo.
January 30th is my WordPress anny! HiI need foodz and coffeeeeePetite little thang but I love youuu
Thanks for the love and attention y’all. It’s non-existent in my real life. And dudes truly only care about the dirty gals. They pass me over like trash. They make me feel invisible and make me wish I had never been born… Or they are only interested in sex. Nothing more. Like, I’m a person with real feelings. But I’m either trash or a sex object, to them, that’s it. Depression is an understatement. What self-esteem? They’ve killed it. It’s a daily struggle to go on, to even want a purpose anymore. I can’t hide the sadness in my face any longer. Disappointment is an understatement. There are no words…
Except, I love you. Thank you for supporting me. For your follows. Your likes. Your re-shares. Your comments. Your pledges on my Patreon. Your encouragement. I need it more than ever now. You matter. ❤
First off, WOW, my blog hit 600 followers today and I think that’s a big deal. Especially considering I don’t follow the blogging rules, I’m not a social butterfly, I’m wild and awkward, I haven’t participated in any of the blogger award nominations, I actually read your stuff (as opposed to just hitting like on a flood of your post), and my comments can seem cold and off-putting, or instigating a bit, sarcastic or uncaring. Yo, all I can say is I’m a war vet and dealing with stuffs, loads of stuffs, communication in this phase of my life is hard. But I’m out here still trying to share who I am with you and you’re following me, and like that warms up my icy heart. And sometimes you guys leave me comments that really sink deep into my soul. I’m grateful for that and for you. Honestly your support has kept me going through this depression, I’d be lost without you.
Thank you for finding value in me when facing my family and discovering how toxic they were and how little value they actually had of me, especially after getting out of the army after serving honorably for 15 years. I literally had no support. You guys have seen me get emo, falter, fall, get back up again. You’ve let me share my writings with you, even the ones I was scared to share, which encouraged me to keep writing and to keep sharing. The poems in which I thought wouldn’t have much impact actually had more impact on others than the ones that I thought would carry more weight. Some I write as agony bleeds from my pen, taking careful time and precision, others I freestyle as if it’s the last rhyme I’ll ever write. Time is absolutely irrelevant when it comes to the quality of my poetry.
It doesn’t matter if I take an hour or 5 Seconds, the inspiration flows out all the same. It’s just the ones that are always painstakingly hard to write, aren’t always the ones that get the most attention. The ones that I desperately want people to like aren’t always the ones that get the attention. Or, the size of poem. It matters not. I’ve even pushed myself to write 10 word micro-stories and poems, 25 word micro-poems and stories, and 50 word poetry and stories, and you guys have took to all of them really well! And to be honest, it feels great when my mini stories are well-received because they aren’t easy to write. And all my poetry or stories always have a moral to them. A climax. A decline. A theme. An ending. Purpose. I give words purpose. That’s what I do. And in 200 years it very well may be my legacy.
But now is all that matters. I don’t just write for me anymore, I write for you as well. And by that I mean, you inspire me to keep going, to keep pushing through depression, self-loathing, regrets, sorrow, isolation, suicidal ideations, excessive crying, public mood swings, insomnia, rage, confusion, hate, and even unrequited love. Underneath all that you still see a person worth following. Thank you for reals. I see you. I love you.
P.S. I’m aware a recent poem probably hit really hard but they’re just words, I don’t really hate him, I actually want the best for him and love him and I wish he would actually try to get better and truth is I’m just trying to hurt him the way he’s hurting me. I don’t even want him to be blocked and I wish we were following each other’s blogs & Insta’s again. But, I haven’t got past my own insecurities and seeing him flirt with other girls hurts me to the core, like the very center, which seems to radiate everywhere else in me. And lately the hurt has been flowing out like hot magma, but hopefully when the rage cools down, crust will form over the Earth, flowers will bloom again. Because, the hate doesn’t stop making me love him. Death won’t even do that…
P.S.S. A big shoutout to all my Patrons who are supporting this blog, I am utterly grateful for your encouragement and pledges, you have no idea! I so value your support and your feedback, as a writer it’s invaluable, and the privacy of it allows me to have a “safe place” to write and grow with you. But also, I really need the bread money and your support means I can keep writing on this blog and writing is so therapeutic! It also holds me accountable, and gives my life purpose and meaning. Something many veterans struggle with after returning to civilian life. And I really am trying to give you a lot of value for your money, thank you for believing in me! And for pledging! ❤ I’m getting sobby again. I cry over everything but at least this one is a good cry. 😄
The bigger number, the one nearing 4K, that’s WordPress counting my Twitter and Facebook followers (I don’t think Insta is included in that data but I could be wrong).
If you dig my writing, you can support this blog by becoming a VIP patron on my Patreon campaign (my goal is 25 patrons, we’re 6/25) 😍: https://www.patreon.com/poeeternal
Tell me, how many do you love? Is it one, is it two, or maybe 12 from above? Tell me, who do you spend your time thinking of? Is it Sue, is it Penny, do I ever occur? Tell me, am I ever her? Is there anything about me that might make you stir?
He digs any gal with panties around their ankles. Which isn’t me. No, I’m not worth noticing at all because I’M NOT NAKED or age 13. He also needs a constant supply of “yes” people. He doesn’t live in reality. He’s delusional. And his entire life is literally centered around his cock. Every move. How will his cock get off? That’s it, that’s all he’s good for. Cumming. And not one baby… He’s basically the scum of the universe and I’m moving into the “I hate him” phase. Hey, this is HIS BED, NOT MINE. He can run and hide under another blog but he needs a spaceship to the nearest black hole. GET IN THE SEA NOW, TAKE ALL YOUR BROWN NOSES WITH YOU.
If you dig my writing, you can support my blog by subscribing to my Patreon here (please & thank you): https://www.patreon.com/poeeternal
I’d rather claw out my eyes than look him in the face And when it comes to heartache, I’d give him a taste If he were the last man on Earth, I’d disappear without a trace But when it comes to suffering, I’m still in first place
I’d cut out his tongue and replace his black mask I’d point him to sorrow and long may he bask Where demons grow hollow where angels come last And forgiveness is something he never will ask
Every tear begs to forget of his existence My heart still fights but I wish for resistance The longing now just feels like a sickness When love came about he left with a quickness
It’s like privacy becomes a crystal ball Yet who I am he doesn’t know at all Take his hand you’ll be sure to fall Will break your heart then hide behind a wall
Courage no it’s not a look for him Forgiveness now is looking very slim He haunts my heart like a phantom limb Show him light and he will show you dim
PoeEternal 