Reads: 106  | Likes: 1  | Shelves: 1  | Comments: 3

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  No Houses

I've got a fever inside,

burning my skin alive,

I just want to become the monster,

but I end up like Frankenstein,

trying make everything,



I fight the demon,

all this darkness inside,

then I turn from a Jekyll,

wanting to run away,

and hide.


There's no way to explain this,

no words to describe,

no may to make you understand,

what it feels like to be alive,

when I feel like I want to die.


We can't decide how to make amends,

with our own sore and tired,



I wish I was real.

I was was just in your imagination,

I am not one to complain.

I am not one to take,

I am just in pain,

I realize I am broken,

I know my words when spoken,

I know my silence,

I know my place.


I've got this burn, underneath my skin,

it wants to shred me free,

I feel the emptiness,

from deep down,


of me.


I fight my angel,

bringing me back,

as I rip apart,


where I once had shoulders,

strong like the claw,

of a raven.


There's no way to tell them,

how much it hurts,

when they already know everything, 

about pain. 

Submitted: November 29, 2020

© Copyright 2021 Dr. Acula. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:



I am comprehending the self-reflection of your beautiful musing, a very nice read my handsome poet

Love and Hugs,

Sun, November 29th, 2020 3:29am

Sharief Hendricks

What a beautifully crafted disturbing piece Doc...

I am beginning to understand your method and your dark themes and it is becoming clearer to me just how talented you truly are.

Loved it !

Mon, November 30th, 2020 12:36pm


Thank you for your kind words, Sharief ! stay safe !

Mon, November 30th, 2020 12:28pm


Strong images in this, Doc. Relatable too.

Mon, November 30th, 2020 7:13pm

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