Ship Street Poetry - My Rabid Fucking Soul - 3D cover

My Rabid Fucking Soul exerpts


A collection of modern, raw and dark poetry.

Ship Street Poetry - The Wold poem

The Wolf

You called the packs in to circle her and joined in the chorus of horrors
Your lack of faithfulness to this you were blind
Your backstabbing your complaints all over
Was that the nicest part of you that you could easily find
Not one kind thought or word for the wolf
Who loved and cared for you while the other one slunk away
You couldn’t see the wolf in her that was protective and up for the bloody fight
It was FOR YOU not against you
How fucked up was that night
When an animal in the wild
Fights hard for her cub
they are cherished and valued
Not dragged through the fucking mud
As fights go it got dirty
One sided twisted stories and plenty of corruption
You could have swayed back to your pack
That Bore you loved you and guaranteed you protection
But you chose to go to those that attacked your protector
not just once or twice but as it turns out
Betrayal is your daily selector
With faithless dissatisfaction you seasoned yourself with callousness
constantly creating a tower of lies so tall
It’s dead easy to make NO fucking mistakes when they’re barely even around at all
Seems like the blame game may run in your blood
Perfection is yours you may think but not from my line
I have carried gutful’s of heartache for your ongoing choice
But in the end  for my sanity
I must choose to be fine
While others made excuses and were nowhere to be found
You attacked your true protector and threw her to the ground
I guess that’s what you get for not only speaking your mind
But trying to love and protect one you thought was your kind

Ship Street Poetry - Its 12.22

Its 12.22

Its 12.22 and I dreamt you tried to kill me tonight
Your hands were around my throat
I was putting up quite a fight
I know it wasn’t you as you slept silently by my side
Until my screaming came tumbling out
Even I thought I had fucking died
Its 12.31 and I can’t help but think
While lying in the dark on my back
This is not the first dream
Where part of me was in danger
It’s been so many times now
I just can’t keep track
Not sure what part that is
If she really is still alive
Or it’s memories
A part of my soul that never got to survive
Its 12.35
My mouth is really dry
My throat is so damn sore
It wasn’t really you in my dream
But the hands
I have surely met those bastards before
That underwater feeling sinking in a hole
Surface above out of arms reach
Same screaming noise every time
Deleting parts of my soul
I wake surprisingly calm
Different face on the culprit this time
this condition or whatever it is called
Its cure I am sure has no balm
Its 12.44

Ship Street Poetry - Reocurring  womam

The Reoccuring Woman

A woman once would sing to me before I went to sleep at night.
The song always said not to worry
That everything was going to be alright
It must have seemed that I didn’t think that was the case
I’m sure it’s still in my eyes and written on my face
That woman now is rarely ever seen around
You could search this earth all over and she would never ever be found
I pass by and over her in my visions buried deep
She stands there barely seeing me the path to her is steep
Some nightly travels I can feel her near me, my beloveds are by her side
I see her hands in theirs I know there’s something she is trying to hide
I hear myself yelling at her I hear myself to her say
It’s bad enough the things you already stole from me
Don’t you dare fucking take THEM away!!
She doesn’t even hear me
She doesn’t seem to care
That the very few things that have come to me
Are the same things that keep me from visiting her there
No matter how many times I see her
No matter how many times we meet
Never have I heard her voice again
The one that would sing me to sleep


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