My ghost is the only soul who ever comes to cry on my grave... Only the skies cried sincerely on my funeral.
Simona PanovaTags: romance soul melancholy sadness death dead crying mystery sacrifice grave gothic young-adult dying graveyard funeral cry nightmare ghost cemetery sincere skies nightmarish odda
Gray.
The overcast skies had the colour of deadened stones, and seemed closer than usually, as though they were phlegmatically observing my every movement with their apathetic emptily blue-less eyes; each tiny drop of hazy rain drifting around resembled transparent molten steel, the pavement looked like it was about to burst into disconsolate tears, even the air itself was gray, so ultimate and ubiquitous that colour was everywhere around me.
Gray...
Tags: love romantic romance rain death apathy weeping dark water darkness dead colors crying tears raining mystery suspense color eyes movement gothic young-adult rock steel mysterious colours weep stone cry drop clouds blue move eye air cloud observe close metal colour slow iron itself stones grey grim tear downpour ultimate goth gray everywhere slowly cloudy haze overcast closer inconsolable apathetic blue-less colourless deaden disconsolate hazy phlegmatic rainy ubiquitous
Have a look around, my pretty, we are surrounded by Death in all forms – just the two of us are still alive –
Simona PanovaTags: life woman death sinister dark darkness live living old dead horror black mystery suspense grave girl gothic young-adult graveyard mysterious beautiful pretty witch divination hide alive occult female look cemetery scary scared scare occultism still-alive ominous gothic-romance goth young-adult-book fortune-telling young-adult-suspense mystify mystifying horrifying lurk old-witch still-dead
Morbidity and Mortality Rounds
Forgive me, body before me, for this.
Forgive me for my bumbling hands, unschooled
in how to touch: I meant to understand
what fever was, not love. Forgive me for
my stare, but when I look at you, I see
myself laid bare. Forgive me, body, for
what seems like calculation when I take
a breath before I cut you with my knife,
because the cancer has to be removed.
Forgive me for not telling you, but I’m
no poet. Please forgive me, please. Forgive
my gloves, my callous greeting, my unease—
you must not realize I just met death
again. Forgive me if I say he looked
impatient. Please, forgive me my despair,
which once seemed more like recompense. Forgive
my greed, forgive me for not having more
to give you than this bitter pill. Forgive:
for this apology, too late, for those
like me whose crimes might seem innocuous
and yet whose cruelty was obvious.
Forgive us for these sins. Forgive me, please,
for my confusing heart that sounds so much
like yours. Forgive me for the night, when I
sleep too, beside you under the same moon.
Forgive me for my dreams, for my rough knees,
for giving up too soon. Forgive me, please,
for losing you, unable to forgive.
Tags: death mortality hospital morbidity doctor-morbidity international-prize-winning-poem physcian-poets
The problem with living forever, of course, is you have to live forever before you know you're immortal...or invincible. Even the gods, in this way, must always remain uncertain. Time trumps immortality just as uncertainty trumps omniscience, for a knower can only ever know what it knows, never what it doesn't.
(attrib: F.L. Vanderson)
Tags: life knowledge god time death uncertainty immortality
Protect that girl, Balthazar. She is an innocent in all of this.”
“Why does she want Nikolas to gain his humanity?”
“She believes they are in love.”
The absurdity of D’s words hit Balthazar square in the gut. He would have doubled over if he didn’t find the reason pathetic. Thankfully, he managed to keep the laughter in his head.
“Love? Nikolas?
There's actually a sort of comfort in the belief that things can only get worse. It gives one an appreciation for the here-and-now, knowing that each and every moment may be as good as its ever going to get. Anyways, I can't imagine living too happy a life - so much to lose. It only figures that the more miserable your life is, the easier it is to lose it. And, when you can lose it at any moment, any time un-enjoyed must be time well spent.
(attrib: F.L. Vanderson)
Tags: life pessimism death depression misery dying
Now that Karen has been resurrected, I can travel beyond the black mirror. I can discover who I have lost with the
floating hearts and severed heads of my medicine. I must now whisper my other friends back too. I’m sad they’re gone…sad and blue.
Tags: poetry beauty death medicine goth severedheads whispersinthedarkness
Who was this girl alone so late at night
in search of a faded cassette illusion to disembowel the clocks of time’s intrusion? Those eyes belonged to the most beautiful maniac I’ve ever met. Our love is a vine of entrails that can follow any coffin anywhere, no matter how deep any gravedigger might travel.
Tags: poetry insanity beauty death scaryprose video-stores
And maybe one winter it will get too cold and I’ll forget about the summers we once shared. My family portrait might
fold in too, producing the same horrific effect as Jeremy’s: that I, all along, had another sibling who eclipsed and became me—a prosperous sibling, an imposturous sibling, who outgrew a sense of time and place in which the three of us were everything to one another. Then only my blood in the sea could unfold and lead me back out of the origami.
Tags: poetry loss death mystery regret origami seeingpossiblefuturesinthepast
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