Tickling faint claws linger across skin
Crawling on six legs, exoskeleton akin
Eye to the needle,
setae of a beetle
Mourn hollowly, annihilate complexity
Study sleeplessly, sullen perplexity
Overspread with irredeemable eyes
Intricate nervous trepidation: the demise
Agitate the feeble,
body of a beetle
9/29/2023
Fester on the flesh to infect
Hollow serenity to interject
Fungi travel, organs are squirming
Red gnaws, silence is unnerving
Contagious is the denial
Itchy is the overspread cycle
Ears are ringing and lungs compress
Bleeding innocence has become less
Hyperventilating, limbs worm around
Dreary scars color, fissures to be found
10/7/2023
Gnawing, seething, scour a cell to invade
Desperate, needing, transmit pathogens to cause pain
In this morbid cycle -
Lysogenic
This unfortunate denial,
becomes quite pathetic
Dying to find your feeble host
Ones surrounded by the most
Spread the information, dig into their brains
Preform transduction so they cannot think the same
Transmit your DNA, a sickness that is heard
Let the cell divide horridly, more must be learned
Now overspread in the unknowing body
Subtle sickness causes bruises and clotting
Microbiology- Bacterial transduction is when a virus transfers DNA from bacterium to bacterium and is a way bacteria reproduce. The lysogenic cycle is when virus DNA is still in a cell and the cell divides which also makes more virus DNA; a virus infects the cell but does not destroy it (chicken pox → shingles, etc).
Thank you for sharing your poetry here @wren_wyn and for trusting this space with what you create.
How has been your experience with this outlet, if I may ask? What doe syour writing process look like? - No pressure in responding if you don’t feel up to it. Just always appreciate meeting someone through what they create. It’s a special type of gift and honor. <3
Frigid
…
Petals peeling off the bone
…
Vivid
…
Colors mute in isolation; alone
…
Dying are the shades of ________
Seeping from the dropping petals: fear
Living yet not alive
Agony produces no tears
…
Melting in the fluid stained hands
Crawling with maggots and lies
Those brutally unforseen plans
Ones that no petals can deny
Devour what will fill the torn hole
Escape from the daunting rot
Now how the pistil has become the soul
Melting in harsh hands, suffocating clots
…
Mislead
…
Dead
Did you write this? Or is it one of your favorite poems?
I actually wrote it, ahah
Oh nice. What inspired the poem? I used to write poems as well back in the day. Should have kept up with it! If you keep up with it you may be able to turn them all into one poem book.
hey wren_wyn!
this is such a beautiful and raw poem, thank you for sharing this piece of you. the line breaks brought out even more unspoken emotions between each part. “Melting in harsh hands, suffocating clots” is also worded so vividly and eloquently, you’ve got an amazing skill for poetry. i hope you’re willing to share more poetry and what’s on your heart in the future. you are loved!
love,
twix
Hello there,
Thank you for sharing this with us. The one line that stands out most to me is: “Living yet not alive.” It made me thing of how seeds are when they are planted in the ground or a small batch of green leaves in the midst of white snow. Seeds have to die to bring something beautiful to the world.
I know how this can be read, but I want to spotlight how there can be beauty in these kind of things. Thank you for inspiring me today.
You are amazing. You are wonderful. You are smart. You are talented. You matter.
-StarFox 
Thank you for sharing your words and your art with us. It can be such a personal thing and it can also resonate so deeply to others. It’s something that someone can perceive in their own experiences, but also holds this meaning that is yours.
I am-
The little match boy, amusing skin in flames
Blue eyes, tears evaporated in the pain
My body strikes against the world
Sparking laughter, enjoyment hurled
A wish to be out of this body
Cauterize the uncut bloody
The perfect show in bricks is precious
Cowering under his consequences
A nickel for my time
I’m running out of life
My enflamed agony sure is a beauty
Must not be punished by him for mutiny
Leave no room for mistakes
As he burns my charred face
My fluids seep out as I scream
They pour laughter like gasoline
In a comical sense,
It’s the best that it gets
It hurts, burning and cascading scent
My insides are throbbing, no tears left
Eye of him, vocal cords straining, terror oozing
This wretched body of mine continues bruising
Surrounded, cowering next to the igniting bricks
His inhuman and ill scent erecting grows me sick
Struck against the scraping rough, birth to a flame
Melting, muscles strain and sear, quickly maimed
In a comical sense,
Still sight of him, my body comes tense
It’s the best that it gets
This escaped and freed life of mine he regrets
In the most morbid sense,
It’s the best that it gets
I might redo this. I most likely will since it’s not my best work. Maybe I don’t like it as much because it’s in first person and not third like how I usually write poems. I do enjoy the concept/story, though.
Rub the dark bags under the pitiful sky
Abyssal eyes illumate the desire to die
Snuggling deeply into the haunted bed:
Muttering silently, “I think I’d be better off dead.”
The stars will not light up salvation
Sleepily search for unhealthy restoration
Pain imbedded intolerably deep inside pale skin
Mourning the dead while psychologically being akin
Mind forever lost in the milky way
Resting, wishful for no new day
Whispering a loving endeavor:
“Please let me sleep forever.”
It’s a true gift to be able to express your feelings so well.
The stars will not light up salvation, yet they remind us that there is much more to be known.
The stars will not light up salvation, yet there is light within you, awaiting your discovery.
Despair does not have to be the end. It can and often becomes a gateway to a willingness to consider new ideas and a view things from a different perspective. When you have nothing to lose, you also have everything to gain.
How beautiful <3
What a talent it is to be able to express your feelings through poem so well.
Hold Fast my friend,
Monkey
If I fall then I really will fly
Dripping emotion from an unspoken voice
Hollowness scraped, a heartless void
Eyes prostituted to fear
Passing by tight lipped sneers
Heavy words will feel weightless in the air
Wanting an escape as smiles mock and stare
Shoeless yet there bore no sigh
If I fall then I really will die
The rooftop railing, short and weak
A dire desperation silently speaks
An abyss swirls in the sky, car lights dancing
Horns from the city, quiet loudness enchanting
Peering over the edge hopelessly
Stomach churns in joy breathlessly
The haunting past scurries by
Falling, I really will die
11/14/2023
A fun little note:
Wren - whim
Wren - wyn
Wrens represent determination, enthusiasm, change and happiness.
The name Wren represents good luck, prosperity, and a strong spirit.
The painful body is red and bruised
Hang the head, emotions become loose
And the cuts are hot to the touch
Representing the lingering anger of lust
Waiting for the skin to heal
Ripping the damage then squeal
Pupa in the bloodstream
Larva that scream
Choking on self hazard,
habromania shattered
Delightful, the insignificance
Struggling to smile with cracked lips
A breeding ground,
become egg bound
Find pleasure in sick habits
Eaten inside out by maggots
10/11/2023
The cute bell on the door mercilessly sings
Helpless eyes, praiseless ears start to ring
Send your pity disguised as sympathy
Work for love in suffocating dread blissfully
Finger the merchandise, act real coy
So the fake face will wear a smile of joy
The heart can only take so much sorrow
A loan for tasks that you may borrow
The obsessive pinkness oozing is sickening
Call this “love,” uncared for twitches quickening
Thumping mishaps in the chest are pulsating
Overwhelming pressure, tears coagulating
The burden, the tension, horrid to sustain
Please give love as payment for the pain
Small note:
“Love Love Exchange:” work(love) for love - different ways of showing love/love language (acts of service)
***TW: Hallucinations
Pressure gnawing at the back of my head
Unworldly creatures wishing me dead
Mama will not save me nor will the pills
A fiery sensation, goosebumps and chills
Morbid horror is staring me down
Those grins nervously surround
I thought I was a sweet girl,
But mama pins me by the hem of my skirt
I thought I was good girl,
Choking, swallowing the pills that hurt
Terror has me pitifully on the ground
A throbbing throat that cannot make sound
Embracing a candle, sprinting down the hall
Chasing me down, my desperate voice that calls
The hallway twists and comes to the end
Screaming, destroying my vocal cords once again
11/25/2023
Note:
I used simpler rhymes to show that she’s young (8-14). I think it adds a sense of immaturity or the lack of knowledge which then gives to the perception of her being young.
Nonsensical Meaningness
Yearning, desiring, it will never be enough
Tell me how truly pitiful I am
It is all in truth.
Your lips that gently praise
How my heart cannot accept it
Tell me how good I am
Lie to me.
I reach my fingers out,
Kiss the tip,
You bite my lip
No good can come now
My mouth is bleeding
Eat my tongue along with tears
I cannot tell how painful it is
My entire body has gone numb
Those hideous places are tingling
Eat my ears
Devour my lips
Suffocate me with a kiss
I beg,
“Lie and kill me passionately.”
12/8/2023