Past Tense

Past Tense

Are we dead yet?
Please let me know
When this unhealthy fascination ends
And I can go home
When I can go back to being me.

I was never morbid.

Cry, my beauties.
I want to see you all cry
With salty little pearls dripping dripping down
Forming little puddles on your reflections.

I never liked being sad.

But oh, there’s something lovely.
Isn’t it just lovely?
The drama, the screams. I wish it were me.
This nightmarish smog,
It deems to overpower reality.

Now I love to cry.

Make me cry, my sweet
And I’ll watch your blood flow.
Doesn’t that sound so pretty?
Don’t I sound demented?

Shivering shivering shivering
I want to feel chills up and down my spine
Like a fingernail scathing, leaving the slightest mark.

I want to stop.

I don’t want to get away
The production is about to start.
Where is my alternate universe?
Where are my creations, fabrications?

Perhaps I never was normal.

No, no, no. I am fine.
I assure you there’s nothing wrong.
Keep reading, dear child. Go ahead.
There’s nothing strange to question.

Are we dead yet?

Why do you want to know?

Are we dead yet?

You’re afraid of ghosts.

Are we dead yet?

Why this sudden interest?

Are we dead yet?

SHUT UP!

Are we dead yet?

I don’t want to be
I remember that now.
I cried, I cry.

But I know I think
It’s beautiful.





Basically, its about me and how I kind of scared myself. Lately, I've been into writing stories where people scream and go through shit and this one where someone dies. I love reading about pain and tears and it's creeping me the fuck out. I was reading this amazing story on Mibba and one of the characters thinks about how romantic he once thought it was to die young. I just thought that was cool. And it's weird because I'm the girl who read every single Goosebumps book, but used to be scared after she read them. I never even touched horror. And now I'm all of a sudden into it for no apparent reason. Horror, death, gore.

Its freaking me out man. And thats why I wrote this poem.

Ok, geez. I get it if people don't like the poem or if there's something wrong with it.

But I'd really like to know what/why. I put my poems on here for critique and I get none. So please?

Thanks.

Why has no one commented this?????
This is BRILLIANT.
I love it. I relate, its an eerily similar recount of my days...
it is dark but it is true, it is honest, it is raw and it doesnt hide behind the idea that death is always bad, but death in itself doesnt just have to be the end of the life, it can be the death of a part of life that wyou wish to end, but an ending with the promise of a new begining, it shows death for what it can be....if that makes sence

Billions of Kudos.

"Death is the next greatest adventure."

and awwwwww.... I'm glad you thought it was so cool. And thank you for your critique. But it wasn't only death I'm talking about. It's the element of pain and sorrow and such. But anyway, thanks.

Y'know something?

I want to have poetic babies with that poem.

If that was possible, whatever.

Anyway, it conveys how horror and all that dark jazz can be somehow beautiful to the beholder, but also maybe a bit silly to outside perception.

Haha. Thanks.

I made a few changes to it though. For some reason, I always end up editing my stuff after I post it. O_o

A piece of literature is never finished, only abandoned.

I read that somewhere...[/spam]

That's a spiffy saying. And it's true. This is the changed version:

Are we dead yet?
Please let me know
When this unhealthy fascination ends
And I can go home
When I can go back to being me.

I was never morbid.

Cry, my beauties.
I want to see you all cry
With salty little pearls drip-dripping down
Forming little puddles on your reflections.

I never liked being sad.

But oh, there’s something lovely.
Isn’t it just lovely?
The drama, the screams--I wish it were me!
This nightmarish smog,
It deems to overpower reality.

Now I love to weep.

Make me weep, my sweet
And I’ll watch your blood flow.
Doesn’t that sound so pretty?
Don’t I sound demented?

Shivering shivering shivering
I want to feel chills up and down my spine
Like a fingernail scathing, leaving the slightest mark.

I want to stop.

I don’t want to get away
The production is about to start.
Where is my alternate universe?
Where are my creations, fabrications?

Perhaps I never was normal.

No, no, no. I am fine.
I assure you there’s nothing wrong.
Keep reading, dear child. Go ahead.
There’s nothing strange to question.

Are we dead yet?

Why do you want to know?

Are we dead yet?

You’re afraid of ghosts.

Are we dead yet?

Why this sudden interest?

Are we dead yet?

SHUT UP!

Are we dead yet?

I don’t want to be
I remember that now.
I cried, I cry.

But I know I think
It’s beautiful.

Lol I love how you stole my title to my poem
Past Tense
But I'll let it go cause your are a Goosebumps fan like me.

P.S. jk lol I know these things happen and you had no idea my poem existed so no prob lol

Btw great poem, I really loved the repetion-ish stuff at the end.

Seriously, wow. And it reminds me a lot of a play I've been studying for English, Rosencrantz and Guildernstern are Dead. Especially in how the repetition in the last lines.

But I really loved it. There was something very frantic about the actually reading of the poem, which I really liked. It really is pretty damn impressive.