the worms rise
the leaves turn
and the ghosts
begin to breathe
again
the world has
terrible teeth
wait
to gain
a thicker callous
generations of mutations
to make you bitter
on the tongue
and chewed up dead
or find a file
pliers
rocks
and embrace
your homemade magic
anyone can be
the tooth fairy
to be human
and wake up
with no alarm
still tired
but unable
to sleep
feels
so
very
mortal
the heat is
a hammer
that pounds
and pounds
i am so
tired
and flat
just bone
dust
and
tanned hide
sometimes, in the dark, all i can hear is the creaking of my bones and the ghosts in my head. i reach to feel something outside of myself and find you. but what if this decay is contagious and i am patient zero. the one who rots the world.
but then you look at me and i think, 'maybe. but not today.'
13
and
ice cream
shoppes
what a good
little
rabbit
no
no
do it
a shelter
of wood and dirt
flowers and worms
love and memories
keep me safe
in a happy place
#afterthewake #notafuneral #whistpr #shelter #poetry
come
walk with me
through the cemetery
☁️☁️☁️🌑☁️☁️
🥀🪦🐌🟫🪦
🍄🧟🥀🟫🐦⬛🦴
🪦🥀🪱🟫🪦🪦
🍂🦹🟫🥀🕳️
🏚️🪦🗝️🟫🍄💀
stephen koharian -- the darkness
no one is illegal on stolen land
The trees know you. Do not disappoint them.
this is
the real horror
of creation
here is my blood
here are my brains
tell me
you love them
please
if you can't
will you tell me
you don't
think i'm
too far gone?
the harbingers
of the spring
to come
you have been
warned
i re-emerged from my grave
to tell you
my first ever pre-order
is live
or maybe
it's undead
www.amazon.com/dp/B0F4LZXJZD
If you see this, post your haunted art
I have an Anti-Valentine's chapbook-in-verse for everyone 🖤🔪💋
The Night is a careless lover; her wives will destroy themselves if it means catching her attention.
Thirteen snippets of degeneration:
avramargariti.itch.io/the-thirteen...
ko-fi.com/s/0b8398bb1d
no matter how often
or rarely
it happens
I am always
a little afraid
my acceptance letter
and contract
were somehow sent to me
accidentally
"Bury the Hatchet or Bury a Friend"
will be appearing in
"Bitter Become the Fields"
from Horns and Rattles Press
oh
hell o Beacon Street
I have read
your opening paragraphs
over
and over
because
they are
so
very
perfect
#midnightonbeaconstreet
#amreading #horrorlit
writing this year
was hard
but it felt good
like a cold shower
on a hot day
I did it
which is a lot
though I have little to show
a small award
that paid for my hellhound's adoption fee
and some praise
I will take these small victories
and plant them
like seeds
on what I thought
was my grave
a death in winter
is always expected
little deaths
of sleep and warmth
sheltered from the cold
soon
we will all rise again
creaking from our temporary graves
to prove
nothing ever truly ends
lure me in
with a wide open sky
hook me
on the barbed wire
marking the made up
boundaries
you built
to anchor yourself
you could
pull it up
and run free
in the wind
too
but
maybe
that kind of wild
is as frightening to you
as these walls are
to me
old words
dusted and polished
maybe still a bit tarnished
but i liked them once
and i hope you like them now
"You catch more flies with honey."
oh, dear
i could catch flies
with rot
breed them
in decay
i dream of
jewel beetles
and luna moths
i will not settle
for flies
old ghosts haunt
when the veil is thin
where the walls have
broken
become doors
they want your house
to be
as it was before
because
they cannot change
but it's okay to
move
to patch the damage
to paint
to board up old rooms
today
will not end you
day of mercury
woe and rage
the storm is sometimes
the wind you need
to carry you through
the deceptively smooth seas
that hide the true
monsters
we all race
heels over head
toward the end
stop
breathe
rest
while you still can
