Three Weird Poems: Tired, R.I.P Lil Bunny and Torture by Teresita Blanco

Three Weird Poems: Tired, R.I.P Lil Bunny and Torture by Teresita Blanco

Editor's Note: By now, I hoped you figured out that the editor is me. Phi Stars really is a one chick project. In any case, this next bash of poems are the weirdest. In the Tired Poem, I was going through an "empty faces" period. That is how I describe strangers or modern zombies. They really do look dazed before their little gadgets. As for RIP Lil Bunny, I really do not know what I was thinking. I was aiming at getting the insane mood of one of those heavy metal songs. From all the poems I ever written, the imagery of this one is the most bizarre. Lastly, we have the Torture poem. Relax, I never tortured anyone, nor have I seen anyone Tortured. Plus, I think torture is a very ugly thing to do. Regardless,  I wanted to write something different and sadistic. The torture poem may seem to flow well. However, it was a real torture coming up with the lines. It was truly among the hardest poems I ever written. Well, I hope you like my little poems. They are all 5 star worthy in my book.

Tired 
by Teresita Blanco

I cannot find myself,

I lay here chained in this chair.

Filled with visions of hell.

My life is cold, so unfair.

I fled from their empty faces.

Only to see them reflected

In my own face!!

My, how I have aged…

How I have changed…

My hands, cold as ice.

My face, a marble mask. 

RIP Lil Bunny
by Teresita Blanco

Sleep tight lil bunny.

For the grim reaper has come, come!!

To take you home,

Flee not lil bunny!!

The faster you run,

The swifter he pursues.

It is time to choose,

Hop away or stop!!

Here you scream,

Dodge his scythe,

The harvest is ripe.

“Come and dream,

Accept my scythe,

You cannot hide!”

Run, lil bunny,

Run, lil bunny,

To your rabbit hole.

Even if you lie,

More than 6 feet under,

Death will tear you asunder.

Run lil bunny!

Run lil bunny!

“You cannot escape me.”

Run, lil bunny!

Run, run!!

“Hide, lil bunny, hide,

The harvest calls,

The seed is ripe.”

Run, don’t look back!!

For death comes,

Run, lil bunny run.

Drag your heels,

Flee into the mountains.

…now death turns to silence. 

Torture
by Teresita Blanco

I came to watch you bleed.

The echoes of your screams.

Brings me a twisted smile.

It’s been a while

Since I indulged in wickedness.

This saintly existence

Has my back bent, twisted.

Yes sir, please,

Perhaps, maybe,

All this “yay” say

Has consumed me,

With thoughts I dare not whisper.

The sound of your whimper,

Makes me smile.

Suffer, cry, bleed!!

So, that I may live!!

The taste of your blood

In my red lips,

Has my cruelty

All in flamed.

Please survive for another hour.

Let me smell the whip

Rotting in what’s left

Of your decaying flesh.

 
Copyright Teresita Blanco

You do not have permission to use my poems without my express written consent.