Tag: depression

This Species has to be Killed in its Infancy by Bogdan Dragos

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(๑╹ᆺ╹ )

Terveen Gill's avatarChewers by Masticadores

A sheaf of white aged papers in a burst of flames
Image Source: Canva

the kid

handed him a piece of

paper and asked,

“Can we put this one

on the fridge?”

It wasn’t a drawing

“What’s this?” he asked

There were words

written on it

I am getting in my car

and I’m driving very far

Following the star

of my dreams

It seems

my destiny awaits

as all good things in small crates

So I’m ready to unpack

hoping it’s not something wack

I want the best of the best

The sun on the sky

I’ll be a writer with a vision

in my eye

“A poem?”

“Yes, a poem,” said the kid. “Can

we put it on the fridge

along with the drawings?”

The father stared at it

for a long time

Finally, he crumpled the

paper and said, “Let’s not

do that.”

“But… why not?”

Dad looked very troubled,

trying to squeeze

an answer

and getting only…

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6

Already Talking like a Real Man by Bogdan Dragos

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Terveen Gill's avatarChewers by Masticadores

A bare chested young man with black marking on his body and holding an axe up in one hand and the index finger of his other hand is placed on his lips
Image Source: Canva

their deaths were

four

days apart

first went father

and then

mother

And now the dark smoke

took the shape of

a cat

and clung to his

shoulder, digging sharp

claws into his

tender flesh

“It hurts,” he cried

“Oh, shut up,” the smoke cat

said, “Be a man. In this

world only the

strong survive. While the weak…

look what happens

to them. You must

become strong.

So start with your father,

he’s been

dead for longer.”

“But I’m scared of blood,”

he cried. “And it

stinks in here.”

“You’re scared because

you’re still not a man

yet. Grab the

fucking cleaver and start

working!”

He didn’t want to die

like them. So he

raised the cleaver above

father’s violet wrist

and dropped it

The blood

squirted stale and

stinky

in all directions

“Ew!”

“Ew is well said,” hissed the

cat. “That was

below pathetic. How…

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6

they complete us by Bogdan Dragos

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j re crivello's avatarMasticadoresAfrica

Dear readers

We have reached an agreement with Bogdan Dragos to publish the 5th series of his poems. We are grateful for his collaboration as we highlight that he has hundreds of readers who follow his publications every Wednesday.

Thank you Bogdan! —j re crivello (Director of Masticatores)

they complete us

"But real love," she says, "is when you'd sew your skin into the skin of your lover to become one. If I could cut off my arm from the elbow and cut yours off as well and join them together as one limb, I'd go for it. I'd then follow with the other arm, then the legs, and finally the chests and the foreheads and lips. We'd die of course, but that would be the beauty of it. We'd die together, as one. We'd become a mass of filth and puss and rot and eventually melt into a…

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16

A Cold Hell by Bogdan Dragos

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⊂( ◉‿◉ )つ

Terveen Gill's avatarChewers by Masticadores

A close up of a mother and child, dirty and poor, crying and hugging each other
Image Source: Canva

the clouds seemed

to be holding

the sun back

like a slave

with chains of lead

After a night

of heavy snow

the day tried to make

a comeback

and failed

It was 11:00 AM

and dark as evening

and since it was

also cold as hell

they concluded they

were in hell

“But hell is not

forever, mother,” he

said. “I’ll make it outside

of hell. In a place where

every soul has a home

and no one freezes in the

streets like us.”

It was a childish promise

that came from

a child

Unlike his mother and her

purple lips

and faded eyes that looked

towards his face

but not at it,

he was blazing with life

and with rage

He shook his tiny fist

at life’s own

cruelty

and cursed the coldness

of the gods

It was still pathetic

in comparison

with the coldness

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4

Said the Ashtray by Bogdan Dragos

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Terveen Gill's avatarChewers by Masticadores

A multicolored skull ashtray with a lit cigarette placed inside it
Image Source: Snappa

Of course

predators don’t always murder their

prey

Many times they will just

catch something

for fun and then

release it

and revel in the godlike feeling of having

allowed a creature infinitely

weaker

to live

“My cat brought me a mouse,” she said. “Held him

from the back of the head,

like a newborn kitten. You know how

cats do, they sometimes bring

you game

like a trophy

or to show appreciation for taking care

of them, allowing them to live

in your house. Well, mine brought

this cute little mouse

and guess what,

the mouse is still in my room to this day

but the cat is not. I don’t

know what happened to

her. She went out and never

returned. It’s been a month and a half. And

it hurts all the more. That cat

was my therapy animal. She helped

me cope with…

View original post 425 more words

6

So, Have You Made It? by Bogdan Dragos

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Terveen Gill's avatarChewers by Masticadores

The abstract close up of a bearded man's face with a front and side profile overlapping
Image: Snappa

the bus seat creaked and roared

with protest

as he sat down

He ignored it

and looked out the window

It won’t be that long of a journey

but it’ll be the

most painful one

He was going home

After all the years spent chasing dreams

“So, have you made it?” they will ask

“Made it?” he’ll say. “Didn’t you see I

came here by bus? Does that

look to you like I made it? Does

that scream ‘Bestselling Author’ to you?”

But of course

they’ll just ask to be nice

or to make conversation

or simply as a means to

reaffirm their ‘I told you!’

Or maybe even to mock

It was 18:22 by the time the bus

arrived at his stop

He didn’t get out

From 09:00 to 18:22

it’s a lot of time to think

about all you haven’t thought about

in 26 years

Still

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20

The Matters of the Living are Beyond Her Now by Bogdan Dragos

Image Source: Snappa I watch her every evening until late at night I’m always looking under her skirt Most of the times she’s wearing black and doesn’t bother to use anything that may absorb her blooming redness The matters of the living are beyond her now She stopped eating and weighs just a bit more […]

The Matters of the Living are Beyond Her Now by Bogdan Dragos
6

Bogdan Dragos

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Horror Sleaze Trash's avatarHorror Sleaze Trash

dead and unfazed

217 days
without speaking
or seeing each other
and suddenly she shows up
knocks on his door and says,
“Hey, we’re still together, right?
Still a couple?”

He didn’t answer,
just ushered her in
through a curtain of smoke
and moldy smells.
His small apartment
looked more like a cave
than ever before.
The walls were dark and irregular
with buildup of grime.

The cockroaches were long dead,
poisoned with cigarette smoke
and ashes

26 years her senior,
he was a modern caveman
Still lived in a cold, dark,
and gross cave,
but he had a laptop
and internet connection.

The screen
was the only thing
alive in the cave.

It showed a compilation
of short videos
featuring brutal executions
from all around the world.

“So how have you been?”
she asked.

His reply was a grunt
as his gnarled hand
reached into his breast pocket
and…

View original post 645 more words

21

lovely hands by Bogdan Dragos

j re crivello's avatarMasticadoresAfrica

there's been a collection of rather dark thoughts lately and he was studying it from the comfort of his bed The other day he found a good pillow in the dumpster and used it to cover the spot on the mattress where the rusty springs emerged Now the bed was fine again good enough for daydreaming After you've tried out all herbs and powders all that's left are the dreams the daydreams and the nightdreams and the nightmares and the daymares On another day spent dumpster diving he'd found a plastic bag with about six severed hands They were still cold some mafia shit was going on in the city He took them home and tried to cook them hoping to obtain at least some bits of meat He had no pan and of course no oil so he impaled them with iron rods at the writs and placed them…

View original post 95 more words

16

town of forgotten poets

there he was 
arriving on main street
carrying a backpack
and a suitcase 

both stuffed with
papers

“WELCOME TO THE TOWN
OF FORGOTTEN POETS.”
said the shadows that
watched from the 
windows
of nearby buildings

He didn’t like the 
sound of their
voices

but he sighed 
and dragged his
tired feet along 

they were almost as
tired as his soul
and just as hurt

He'll have to live on the
streets,
for the town
was overpopulated
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