Can't you hear the voices? As they ring inside my head Can't you see the faces? Painted in the blood so red Can't you taste the poison? As it rests upon your tongue Can't you hear the voices? No? Then you do not belong.
Wow. I have to say it: I've stumbled upon this poem more than one year ago. And it made such a hard impression on me, that more than one year later I could recall it from memory. I saw a drawing of a character hearing invisible voices (portrayed as ghosts), and remembered the poem instantly. So I searched "Can't you hear the voices?" on google, plus the 'deviant' query and here I am again. As a fellow writer I must say that to make such an impression on someone is what, I guess, we all aspire for. To connect with our readers. This piece really did so with me. Thank you.
WARNING! Carry on reading! Or you will die, even if you only looked at the word warning!Once there was a little girl called Clarissa, she was ten-years-old and she lived in a mental hospital, because she killed her mom and her dad. She got so bad she went to kill all the staff in the hospital so the More-government decided that best idea was to get rid of her so they set up a special room to kill her, as humane as possible but it went wrong the machine they were using went wrong. And she sat there in agony for hours until she died.Now every week on the day of her death she returns to the person that reads this letter, on a monday night at 12:00a.m. She creeps into your room and kills you slowly, by cutting you and watching you bleed to death.Now send this to ten other pictures on this one site, and she will haunt someone else who doesn't. This isn't fake. apparently, if u copy and paste this to ten comments in the next ten minutes u will have the best day of ur life tomorrow. u will either get kissed or asked out, if u break this chain u will see a little dead girl in your room tonight. in 53 mins someone will say i love you or im sorryReply
Finished or not, I like it. Doesn't seem like it needs to be longer. Whenever I can't seem to 'finish' a poem, I just scrap it, so the very fact that yours is posted here seems to show me that you aren't as obsessively anal about getting the poem to be whatever form of 'right' is in your head. If what I write isn't as good or better than what I wanted initially, it most always gets scrapped... Who knows, maybe you are and this one just slipped through the cracks. xD Either way, I'm glad you didn't try too hard to finish it and then potentially scrap it like I would. It's perfect just as it came out.
It kind of touches this point in my life because I always hear the voices.mother thinks I'm playing saying it's normal,she does it to.But I know the difference between your conscience and the voices.They haunt me.And tease me.But they were always there for me though the bullies,rape,and my cutting.So I can't get rid of them,therefore they are my best friends.Please do not think I am a psycho,I'm just tortured and misunderstood,A lost,pained angel.
Woah! This is amazing. When I read this, this really makes me think of schizophrenia, in the sense of the hallucinations, and the last three lines alluding to the subject's paranoid delusion. Anyway, great job! Thank you for making me think!
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