Don’t Let Me Down – Chris Nelson

Don’t let me down

Or leave me here,

Just cut me down

And disappear,

Don’t let me know

Or tell me when,

The cruelest blow

Bury me then,

Don’t let me breathe

And suffocate,

In lies you weave

It gets too late,

Don’t let my song

Hang in the air,

With words so wrong

And none to spare,

Don’t let me walk

With only hate,

Whilst others stalk

The open gate,

Don’t let me down

Or leave me here,

Just cut me down

I’ll disappear.


© All original writing copyright Chris Nelson 2018


If you enjoyed this, thank you! To read more please visit chrisnelson61


Untitled – Chris Nelson

Born into the night

Sharp-suited, black

Against the shadows,

Felt your footsteps

Cold and soundless


Each placed deep within my own,

Your breath,

Chill upon my neck

As your words swirled,

Like birds lost in the warmth

Of early winter,

Around my head,

My back sheltered by

The uneasiness of your coat

Wrapped about my shoulders,

Felt your hands eat

Into my formaldehyde mind,

Sowing the seeds for a harvest

Misted by candle-wick days

Which devoured the light

And led the Sun to its

Uneasy bed,

Born into the night

Cut from the promise of light,

Against the shadows

I felt your footsteps.


© All original writing copyright Chris Nelson 2018


If you enjoyed this, thank you! To read more please visit chrisnelson61.

Introducing Chris Nelson ~ Magpie

My perch it is the highest fence

My view the clearest view,

I scan the city streets all day

In search of something new.


I watch the faces passing by

The frightened and the brave,

And steal their thoughts before they know

They’re stumbling to the grave.


But never tree

Or hanging branch

Will ever hear me sing,


I move with grace

From left to right

But never on a limb.


I’ll take the shiny and the dull

And keep them in my nest,

All the doors that never opened

Now locked inside my chest.


And when at night you cannot see

The memories that you lost,

I’ll gaze upon each every one

And marvel at the cost.


But never will

I take the dive

Or sing out loud my song,


Just bob my head

From side to side

And pray that I’m not wrong.


I’ll watch the Sun both rise and fall

And welcome day and night,

Basking in the cloak of darkness

And hiding in the light.


I’ll never fly too far from home

For fear I’ll lose my way,

Rather nest on stolen chances

As on my perch I stay.


So neither tree

Nor hanging branch

Will ever hear my song,


As safe I grasp

The middle ground

To be neither right nor wrong.

© All original writing copyright Chris Nelson 2018

If you enjoyed this, thank you! To read more please visit chrisnelson61



You say, my newborn face dwells only in the frames of your ancient house,

and my purity was left in my mother’s womb and arms

So now, you try to cleanse me with your precious soap

Scour… Scrub… Rub…

and then you conceal me with lotion, some powder, more perfume!

And yet some more, make me sore

Chafed. Excoriated. Distorted.

But I am the one who chokes on all the bitter pills you have to swallow

I am the one who burns your cigarettes as I varnish your thoughts,

and engrave your soul within my poetry

whilst you hide along its dusky alley

I am the one who can assemble your back like a jigsaw puzzle

I know your true colors, your soft spots

I know how to get you down on your knees

I know how we collide in the dark

For I’ve memorized the pieces and the layers of you,

and I’ve traveled the twisted lines on your spine too

I reside within your core, within the crevices of your bones

I am the scabs on your wounds, the callus on your fingers, the dust in your hair,

your best keeper

I am your shadows and I linger like the smell of cigarettes on your damp skin

Oh, my dearest self!

Stop excavating your flesh for my corpse

‘Cause I’m never ever gonna be away,


Eat me whole.


© Image from Brooke Shaden Photography


First published on Eli Kyoko’s personal blog: Moonlit Pieces.

She’s dressed in black from head to toe…



Yesterday, burglars attacked me
snuck in through my navel
slithered through the gaps under the door of my mind
tromped over and intruded my body
a heist of calm state and innocence
captured my breath, tamed my soul
ruptured my walls and windows,
cracks turned into sinkholes
aggressively pulling out my innards
my hefty veins
intermittently becoming violet and blue and violent
my heart was in a drag race,
in synch with my fingers
trembling of turbulence
but my brain is out of place
creeping in a fast-paced city
and I hear the world blowing their horns at me
when I’m at a march towards an imminent doom
deliverance comes in tiptoe
growing frail,
I gave birth to torment and fright
expelled the daze, exhaled the haze
my soul escaped, my breath smothered them
tomorrow is never an assurance
but I made it today

First published on Moonlit Pieces by Eli Kyoko, a peaceful yet chaotic creature who once hid behind the night sky’s moonlight— She’s out now.



Welcome to the funfair where anyone can go through. This is the mirthful side of the world that haunts me in vivid and vibrant colors. Sugar and spice, taste them inside!

They can see me as a horse in the carousel, the ferris wheel or the roller coaster ride. Thrilling and electrifying. Where they go round and round, up and down, until eruptions arise in their downtown.

They want me to lick their lollipops and pop the elastic balloons with my tongue and teeth. Their heads contain nothing but helium. Swallow or spit.

Try it. Then tell me how fun it is.

I’m the tin cans on where they throw their balls at, or the punching bag on a boxing machine game.

One hit = one bubble gum flavored pride.

They drop a coin in the toy machine where they see me as stuffed, aggressive to get inside.

Oh, how they love to play such games!

Their knees are darts pinning me down, until I spill blood like these words. But sometimes it’s also feathery darts from their peacocks, aiming for the bull’s-eye between my thighs. It’s their target instead of my heart.

Try it. Then tell me how fun it is.

When they want to relax, they sit on the bench in immorality park like starving brutes, they whistle and bark.

They want their hotdogs on sticks so they’re eyeing us as chunks of meat for feasts. Butts are buns that they want to bite and suck the juices of every cantaloupe breasts.

I know it’s not about my dress, they still got their filthy hands in my pocket inside my pants.

I’m the Pirate ship that carries them all. I sail back and forth, and I won’t break nor fall.

For I am the ghost inside the haunted house, too. Whom they scream at and run away from. They won’t let me out. But whether they see me or not, Karma will haunt them as an endless knot.

This isn’t a fun game between genders.

This is a foul game between humans and monsters.

The funfair is open anytime, everyday. It doesn’t stop operating. The entrance is free, like dignity.

Try it, then tell me how fucked up it is.

Eli Kyoko is a moon inside of a human body. She hides between the lines and spaces, and swims through the never-ending waves. She’s a wanderer in the world of art, and an artist at heart. Sometimes she’s black & bloody, other times glittery & golden, or something else that’s complicated. Dissect and descry more of her phases within her writings engraved here, and on her personal blog: Moonlit Pieces.