Three depressing poems

I was depressed last night, so I wrote these. The last on is true for me.

Sinful lust

 

It drips down my chin,

Its bitter yet sweet,

Its as red as wine,

It’s as thick as syrup,

Its what keeps me going,

It’s my sinful last,

It’s the thing that holds me at dusk,

I find my friends are shinny and sharp,

Their kisses are what make it flow,

I find comfort from them at times,

Yet thy have not kissed my skin,

And tasted my wine,

I find that at times,

I wish my wine would spill,

And that it would flow,

And drip down.

 

Blood

 

But, I cannot,

Luck is on my side,

Oh at times I think its not,

Oh it gets old,

Don’t give up on me, yet.

 

Voices in my head

 

The voice I hear,

They’re inside my head,

I hear them argue,

I hear them cry,

I hear them try,

To comfort me,

I hear them,

Yet no one hears them,

They are there,

The voices are there.

Reviews

[Succubi]

it was a good start, but kind of cliche` i like the wordplay, but it was all too common