Between cigarettes
There must be some regret
I can’t deal with you now

You bring loneliness
With empty promises
And the promise of child

It’s getting cold, she said
You never were impressed
There’s a lesson here somehow

Always late for bed
It’s the consequence
Of figuring you out

Always wrong, you plead
But it was you instead
Doing all of the wrong

 

 

 

Ophidian

I’ve stood his shoes,
I’ve watched him cry
I’ve heard him tell
A thousand lies
With broken hearts
his alibis
Ghostly spirits,
severed ties
All with smile
And charming eyes
The devil claimed
Another prize
Softly kneeling,
While he’s killing
Wrapped and bound
is so damn thrilling-
His trickery too.
But watch that snake
He has no feelings
While he’s smothering you

#amwriting #gettingoveryou #ophidian

This is raw. One year amongst the remains.

I realize now that it has been a year nearly to the day when I went no contact from you. My heart is still broken. But it’s been breaking since the very first time you hurt me. And each time after. And you know the things you did. I’m still trying to process and heal from all the emotional & mental damage you caused.

I still have all these virtual things of our times together, too. I don’t know what to do with them. And I don’t look at them. I don’t listen. But they haunt me. You haunt me. I can’t even look at that girl. I don’t know who she was. I was lost and in hell. You made my life hell and on purpose. See, that’s the part that really gets me. It’s hard to wrap my mind around the fact that you are a sociopath. Others are coming to see.

You nearly destroyed me in those 4 years.

I guess when you think you love a devil, the devil will change. Empaths want to change the world, nurture it, give it love. Tame it. Free it. Love it.

Instead, we find ourselves breaking & changing & becoming lost. No voice, no place of refuge, no safety in our minds.

What an interesting specimen you are though, once I can dissect it all. You are the bottom feeder of hell.

I really don’t think Lu wants you there.

Whatever you are, it’s connected me to who I am. You are a special kind of sick. You gave me Pandora’s Box, I peered inside, I’ve seen the abyss and I know how evil abides. YOU’RE FUCKED.

One day, the evidence surfaces.

And doctors can study your behavior.

I encourage more of your enemies to reach out to me (as they already have). Their privacy will always be respected, but not yours.

Their support has been so appreciated.

Damn, 1 year. One fucking year free from you. From the physical you. But the rest of me is still getting on.

Again, thank you for reminding me that evil exist. I see the world differently now. I remember the pure. I am pure. A true Goddess. I had forgotten her. ♡

#survivingabuse #IwillNotBeSilent #nocontact #1yearfree

There must have been a thousand girls…There now must be a thousand ghouls…

The Ends

The ends are the hardest to begin
Stuck in a vortex on automatic spin
Awaiting the pain to end
Searching for answers in all
the wrong friends
He’ll lie and beg for amends
You’ll heed the calling
And die from within
He’s poison I’ll say it again
A deal with him is to
dance with sin
The ends are the hardest to bend

-Fin-

© Delia Ross. 2017

#PoeEternal

 

 

Mr. No name

There’s not alot left when there’s
nothing to lose
I’d settle for less but
there’s nothing to choose
You settled out west
and contracted the blues
Would it be out of quest to
congratulate you?

You’re wrong I’m the best-
I’m not like the rest,
And the difference will
come to test you!

You’re not the best dressed
No need to contest
My hatred is tried and true

Here’s one more for good jest
my life would be blessed
if you could die a bit soon…

©Delia Ross / @PoeEternal

#PoeEternal
#amwriting #healing #poetry #poeeternal #writingtherapy #breakups #narcissism #narcissist #fuckthechameleons #ihateyou #monstersexist #isleptwiththedevil #scamheartist

Love hath abandoned all

Ahh but who doth not judge the outer appurtenance which is full of flaw? I too shall like to see beyond the hollow scar. Frail and meek, I seek to find comfort in man which bringeth me none not. Love hath abandoned all but my shadow. Until I am merely dust in the wind. I dare not you understand. 

© Delia Ross and Poe Eternal, 2017.

If you remember

He took a train to the north
To tie a loose end
And said not to worry
She’s a lady friend

And so was set forth
A river of tears
That he would soon
Apprehend

My freedom is more
Important he said
Your pain is what
I give you instead

The poor little lover
Was always misread
So fame and freedom
Is what he wed

No ring on her finger
No, honeymoon either

If we end-
All ends she pled
While mourning the seasons
When light transcends

Alone in the shadows
Alone in her bed
Sooner or later
Her heart was found dead

If you remember, all ends well
But not for Adele

(c)Delia Ross. 2014

Unto you all
Magnitudes of joy
Winners must stand tall

Alone sometimes we wait
With the wrong key
At the right gate

Sometimes beneath the brush
A silent memory echoes
a vain, disordered look
a widower, an ache

Promise not to wake her
In her slumber,
Sleep vacant-
but not far from reach

Gratitude for the worthy
Who are these men who call to order?
Vessels of empty breeders
a love for them I may not harbor

Lonely, ghost child
Who are you searching for?
Who are your brothers?

Be gone troubled tomorrows!
Doubts are but demons
Cast iron freemen
Willing to set aside fate

Look at her
her soft skin
Her willingness
to let him in

© Delia Faith Ross

As his eyes shine
so too the Sun
and rise and rise they do

More substance in those two alone
than a thousand in my view

I wonder if he notices
when Jupiter stares too

No sorrows when it’s raining here
his skies are always blue

As far as I can tell
as far as I can ponder
Fate was left to chance
and miracles to wonders

A girl who never danced
but dreamed him in her slumber
her life so unbalanced
but that is when he saw her

It only took a glance
and numerology to follow
He took her in his stance
the moon now whole, not hollow

© Delia Faith Ross. 2014.

http://wepoetsshowit.com/2013/11/06/poetry-contest-finalists-11/

http://wepoetsshowit.com/2013/11/06/poetry-contest-finalists-11/

My poem, “Black Star” made the finale for the November poetry contest. Now I need your help to win! Please vote for my poem ‘Black Star’ by Delia Ross and help me win the prize! Appreciate your support!

 

Also, a BIG THANKS to We Poets Show It for the opportunity! xoxo

You can access the voting poll here: http://wepoetsshowit.com/2013/11/06/poetry-contest-finalists-11/

The Tale and Trauma of Satine (Part 1)

Satine was born in the dark ages, a very long time ago in the township of “Blackwood” whereto her mother had lived and died.
Unbeknownst of her parents, her mother died during childbirth of Satine. Her mother had been bitten by a vampire while Satine was still in the wound.
Satine never knew of her mother and father, and was abandoned as a child, for the people feared her or what she may become. She was sent away to live in the Carpathian Mountains far away.
There she became skilled amongst her powers, training in martial arts, strategic war tactics, and healing.

A thing of abandonment seeped fear in her heart.
Presumably, her vampiric father watched over her, for Satine had dreams and visions that would abound her. Did he want her dead? Was he in attendance to help her, psychologically?
During her training, she met a Prince by the name of Vladimir. He would teach her many things, among philosophy and majik. Vlad seemed notable of the people, high in court. Yet feared among many.

This brought desire in Satine to return to her home village, learn of its people, of her mother’s grave (hidden behind the church), and seek out her father. Upon her arrival, she found the people in disarray. Panic reigned there. Blood towered the streets. Trusty no one was.

Part human, part vampire, part light, part dark, Satine may prove to be the savior of her village.
Satine seeks love, part of her human condition. She may be vilified by its admission.
She grows week with apathy, blood-lust, and a demoniac affiliation.

She sleeps beyond the church in her mother’s shallow grave.

“Remember, sometimes you need the dark to battle the dark. So do not discourage those who suffer from its apathy.” – Satine

©Delia Ross, 2011

bacchus

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