If you hear loud chewing within the grave
Take heed during the plague
It could be a shroud eater
Brick up the mouth of the corpse
It will weaken you physically
It will drain your life force
Once it’s consumed itself
It will come back for more
No one is safe, your family may be next
Unfortunately, life does not always give us closure. It’s not always easy removing toxic people from your life, especially if it’s a family member.
I’ve found it helpful to create a “metaphorical funeral” as a way of saying goodbye.
The metaphorical funeral is symbolic of severing ties with someone who is toxic to your well-being.
Find a box, and decorate it. You could use a shoe box, or purchase a fancy one from the craft store. Be as creative as you want. What should you include inside the box? Include any pictures you have of this person. Write about the good times you had with this person. If you can’t think of any, try writing about what you like about this individual. Write stories, or poems about how this person hurt you. You may also consider tossing any gifts you’ve acquired from this individual into the box.
Once you have loaded up the box, tape it up. Find a place in the yard to bury it. You could also just throw it in the trash. Make sure you wrap it up with a bag, or hide it within the trash bin. You don’t need nosy people glimpsing into your personal life.
My birthday is coming up, and I’m struggling. Due to the circumstances, I cannot even celebrate my birthday. My fiancée’s health is failing. My grandparents are too sick to visit me.
I am having serious doubts about whether I’ll make it through the last couple semesters of college. I’ve put in an enormous amount of money, and work. I don’t want to let my fiancée down. Not only am I burned out; I’m starting to feel the effects physically, too.
My fiancée cooked me a steak dinner last night. I was grateful that he was well enough to cook. We have a vacation planned over spring break, but I am worried that he his health may keep us from going.
Last night I had an amazing dream. I dreamt that Ray Bradbury approached me in a store, and told me that I should write a poetry collection about my feelings. He disappeared, and I chased after him. I shouted, “Come back Ray Bradbury, I need you!”
Although Ray Bradbury is one of my favorite authors, I never dreamt about him. I think the universe was speaking to me. My therapist mentioned that I have feelings that I have not processed yet….
I’m not sure if it’s a dream, or something more. I plan on following Ray Bradbury’s advice. I remember him saying during one of his interviews, “Every day you don’t write, you die a little bit inside.”
Come to me
Take me to Jupiter
Resurrect me
For I’m stuck
In the house of hades
Toynbee tiler
Come to me
Teach me the secrets
Of immortality
https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/toynbee-tiles
*This poem is based on a phenomenon known as the “Toynbee Tiles.” I have provided a link for anybody who is unfamiliar with this mysterious event.
A roommate of mine remarked in a joking manner that the only friends I have are ghosts. I laughed it off. Now, I realize there is truth to her words.
Everybody I’ve ever gotten close to has passed away. No one understands me. My fiancée doesn’t think he’ll make it another year. I will be alone again.
Religion has never really helped me. Too bad philosophy isn’t a religion.
Sometimes, I dabble with Ouija Boards in hope of communicating with my loved ones. Sometimes, I can sense my stepfather’s presence.
I’m not trying to get anyone depressed. I just need to get my feelings out. You can judge me if you want. You can troll me if you want. I am beyond caring…
We were strangers
We were strangers in life
But never in death
Death’s fingers, icy tendrils
Your arm around my neck
We were strangers in life
In death we’re best friends
When it’s time to say goodbye
Don’t waste your time crying
You’ll find me in the words of books
I’ll always be near you
Or in the stories you overhear
When it’s time to say goodbye
Don’t break down crying
Just seek out my stories
It doesn’t have to end
And let the characters be your friends
How do you send a message to heaven?
Put it into a bottle and throw it into the sea?
How do you send a message to heaven?
Place it into a balloon and send it into the sky?
How do you send a message to heaven?
Steve, why did you have to die?
You gave me guidance, and nothing makes sense
It’s the witching hour
Don’t be frightened
The dead kids come out to play
As the moon rises, they leave their graves
Swings move with phantom hands
It’s the witching hour
When the dead make plans
Want to know your death?
Come to this cemetery and count your steps
An undertaker will appear
A vision of your death will be clear
The Homeless Poet 