a place to bury the dead. a box, long wooden usually put in a vault 6 feet in the ground. Now ornate with lining and pillows. Very heavy, takes 6 people to carry
mica
Oh, Lord. His mom (my future mother-in-law)’s funeral. The first real one I ever went to. Torturous. I’d never cried so hard. Then, three months later, my grandma. Just as hard. God.
Casey
I’ve always thought of Modest Mouse when I hear the word coffin. The thought that one day someone could dig your body up out of the ground and use your left over carbon to warm themselves is strange. They would be using the last heat of my body to stay alive.
Peter Soto
a coffin remindes me of death. it lets me know that someone has died, and it haunts me until i think about something else. i have never seen a coffin in my life unless it was on the street and i was walking by it. i dont’ like coffins.
sarah
the coffin sat in the center of the room calling all the attention to it. Everyone was afraid to open it, to see what could possibly hidden inside. maybe it was a body, maybe something to be a secret, maybe nothing at all. they were terrified to find out.
Jessica
i looked at the black coffin. A symbol that he had gone.
They don’t understand. They never will.
I feel tears roll down my cheeks.
mallory
I didn’t want to see it. In the same way, I didn’t want to look away either. It was just sitting there, just as dead as the father that was in it. A bit weird it was, susssied up in a fancy way, probably to try and bring a smal bit of joy to such a sad occasion. It wasn’t working.
Ishi
My bed feels like a temporary coffin.
A place to FINALLY rest from the chaos of life.
…Sometimes I wish it were a coffin.
I don’t think I’m the only one that feels that way.
Candice
Coffins make me think of death. The end of something. The death of my husband’s job since he’s been laid off. The death of the freedom we had given to us by each and every check that we never saw since it was directly deposited into the account. The death of those accounts are slowly creeping up on us, too. There’ll be no coffin, though. No burial. Everything will just be gone.
Tara
there he will lay for the rest of eternity, bitten and chewed and forsaken. it wouldn’t matter to anyone, so why shouldn’t I attack? he has no reason to suspect I would be here tonight, here. he has no idea what I’m capable of either. so why shouldn’t I attack? I fight this lust with every boiling drop of blood in my cracked, pale body.
Brittan
Trapped within thoughts, emotions, feelings, the energy of being alive consumed and wrapped within wood. We can barely escape our own memories, our own sense of where we have been, are going. Our lives are like coffins, and we walk through them gaily, with a carefree skip, because we know no other way.
John
She was there for a purpose. She knew what she had to do.
She had to buy it. She had to make that fateful purchase.
She had to buy a coffin. Not for a loved one. Not for a family member. She had to buy a coffin for herself. A tasteful coffin. She didn’t want one that was too expensive, she just knew that those ingrate kids of hers would put her in a cardboard Frigadaire box and take the money for the coffin to Vegas. Ingrates.
Abbie
The other day i was walking down the road when i saw a old lady on the side of the road a pulling coffin, When I asked the lady what she was doing with it, she said its for my husband and i said “oh sorry to hear about your loss” . the old lady replied with “oh hes not dead, Its his birthday gift”
David
oh damn. what are those cars called?
that carry bodies? uh shit.
kay well at drivers ed today, Josh was telling us about HOV lanes, and said that in the US somewhere this guy propped up dead bodies in his car so that it looked like he had more passengers.
thats awful..
ps. you know i dont hate you! :D
katie
Coffins are to bury the dead and they hold many secrets as well. Do not bury me in a coffin…place me by the sea and allow the waves to carry me away
Blkgrl71
i am going to eat myself into a coffin. I am so disgusted by those who are overweight yet I am ignoring my own slow and painful descent into obesity! I am a hypocrite and I don’t know how to stop myself. I need help.
Sarah
coffin means you are dead. or a vampire. vampires are really popular these days. the vampire diaries. edward cullen and the rest of twilight. kristen stewart looks like such a tweaker. rob pattinson is super sexy. his style’s super hot. i wish i has a boy who looked like him.
erica
I don’t like to think about my mortality. I’m pretty sure I’m going to kick death in the ass and live forever. Although, I suppose if I ever find the need to get a coffin, I’m going to insist on a fancy, pimped out one. Just enough to be considered a compensation for my shitty life. Just enough.
Brittany
As I laid in the coffin, smelling the old whiskey in the walls from back when my small niche had been used to horde the substance, I thought only of how I missed the feral landscapes of home and how the heat reflected back on to her satin contours emblazoning her with amber complexion.
Tyler
Fear and greed. I’m greedy for more years on top, outside the coffin although I’ve already lived longer than most of the human race historically–it’s never enough. Coffin confines. Coffin is a waste. Life moves on and coffin will be forgotten and rot in obscurity. Better to be scattered to the winds than confined to become slime.
Debra
a coffin is where i’d like to sleep. the enclosure would feel secure. if only it could be done safely now.
sometimes i dream of being dead/undead. it doesn’t feel scary, it feel like home.
i’m not sure quite why.
every year around this time, i become wistful for that fabled dead home.
sidhe
death, cold, worms going thru your body. Licking your eyes and burning your soul. pine, wood, cheap, not needed. cremate me.
angie
red silk surrounds me
a blanket wrapped around my head I lay on my back.
So tired
my eyes close
but I cannot get this image out of my head
red silk sheets
black walls
a bed
or a coffin
Libby
Packing the suitcases, hammering the nails. Getting out of this zombie town and heading towards a life with ghosts. We are going on a trip to nowhere.
r.a.
The coffin was lowered slowly into the ground as the preist read out the final words of the sermon. It was gray and a drizzle was starting to fall from the sky. The grass was soaked with perspiration. Beside me, Lola cried.
Unity
He sucked my blood. He told me it taste metallic; he has thirsted on better. He then told me that I didn’t deserve a wooden coffin, but a metallic one, to match.
Liz Marciniak
this brings to mind what will become of me when i am in that tomb. my friend stevens grandpa died the other day and it made me start thinking about death again. Is there an afterlife. I can get to a certain part in my mind of thinking about what will happen but then it just stops and all i can see in my mind is black.
Sarah
Oh Fuck! Am I dead? Well, I guess it’s pretty comfortable in here anyway. Kinda stuffy though. Nice pine fresh scent too. Wish those people outside would shut up though: they’re ruining my beauty sleep.
Leslie
A coffin is a wooden box you sleep in when your dead. you have a funeral and are buried underground at a graveyard. vampires sleep in coffins. vampires are creepy. edward cullen is hot, though. you kill a vampire with a wooden stake. ide never kill a cullen.
Erica
It was dark again. Devin hated coffins; he really did. It was dirty work, digging them up and prying them open for whatever jewels or other trinkets that still lay with the dead. The bugs and insects of the earth were more bothersome to him than to his dead aquaintences.
Nolori
he leaned over the edge of the open casket. It came as a shock to him that his mother was wearing makeup. She never wore makeup. She believed it was better to be natural than superficial, and that included makeup. He could only imagine who could have told the artist otherwise.
Tori
I watched out the window as the sun set. With the sunset, my future was flying out of the window. Tomorrow, I would face the guillotine. But I knew it was coming. Ever since I acted against the country for the revolution, I had sealed my coffin. I heaved a sigh of resignation. It was all over.
Josh
black and desolate
you sit waiting for nightfall
oiled yet creaking hinges open
waiting for someone
darkness falling
is only if only
close your lid
hide away pain and suffering
close doors and hope for closure
Raven
Coffin makes me think of death, and ashes. Coffins are where bodies are placed. Small, tight closed spaces.
Jen Huber
Coffin? I just think of the baby blue coffin at Gaga’s funeral. I hope my family gets me a nice one like that when i die.
Alexandria
It had the patina of rustic charm. The worn timber in varying hues of death and decay, the rusty elegant seized latch…
Linda
i saw it. a coffin. i thought it was a dream. but as i looked at its gleaming cherry red finish and the soft white comfort inside i realized i wanted it. i wanted to be in that coffin. i wanted to embrace the coldness and finality that was eternal sleep.
kay
it is old and rusted. the nail that seals the wooden box needs to be replaced.
“How much?” the old man said
“it’s 300 dollars” a stout man just balding behind the counter said. peering over his newspaper nonchalantly tallying the amount.
“alright”
the man took the box and left.
kuri
the green grassed field seems to lie calm under
grey stains of rain
underneath this seemingly innocent lies
the living dead that dance on a day when no living is present
a place to bury the dead. a box, long wooden usually put in a vault 6 feet in the ground. Now ornate with lining and pillows. Very heavy, takes 6 people to carry
Oh, Lord. His mom (my future mother-in-law)’s funeral. The first real one I ever went to. Torturous. I’d never cried so hard. Then, three months later, my grandma. Just as hard. God.
I’ve always thought of Modest Mouse when I hear the word coffin. The thought that one day someone could dig your body up out of the ground and use your left over carbon to warm themselves is strange. They would be using the last heat of my body to stay alive.
a coffin remindes me of death. it lets me know that someone has died, and it haunts me until i think about something else. i have never seen a coffin in my life unless it was on the street and i was walking by it. i dont’ like coffins.
the coffin sat in the center of the room calling all the attention to it. Everyone was afraid to open it, to see what could possibly hidden inside. maybe it was a body, maybe something to be a secret, maybe nothing at all. they were terrified to find out.
i looked at the black coffin. A symbol that he had gone.
They don’t understand. They never will.
I feel tears roll down my cheeks.
I didn’t want to see it. In the same way, I didn’t want to look away either. It was just sitting there, just as dead as the father that was in it. A bit weird it was, susssied up in a fancy way, probably to try and bring a smal bit of joy to such a sad occasion. It wasn’t working.
My bed feels like a temporary coffin.
A place to FINALLY rest from the chaos of life.
…Sometimes I wish it were a coffin.
I don’t think I’m the only one that feels that way.
Coffins make me think of death. The end of something. The death of my husband’s job since he’s been laid off. The death of the freedom we had given to us by each and every check that we never saw since it was directly deposited into the account. The death of those accounts are slowly creeping up on us, too. There’ll be no coffin, though. No burial. Everything will just be gone.
there he will lay for the rest of eternity, bitten and chewed and forsaken. it wouldn’t matter to anyone, so why shouldn’t I attack? he has no reason to suspect I would be here tonight, here. he has no idea what I’m capable of either. so why shouldn’t I attack? I fight this lust with every boiling drop of blood in my cracked, pale body.
Trapped within thoughts, emotions, feelings, the energy of being alive consumed and wrapped within wood. We can barely escape our own memories, our own sense of where we have been, are going. Our lives are like coffins, and we walk through them gaily, with a carefree skip, because we know no other way.
She was there for a purpose. She knew what she had to do.
She had to buy it. She had to make that fateful purchase.
She had to buy a coffin. Not for a loved one. Not for a family member. She had to buy a coffin for herself. A tasteful coffin. She didn’t want one that was too expensive, she just knew that those ingrate kids of hers would put her in a cardboard Frigadaire box and take the money for the coffin to Vegas. Ingrates.
The other day i was walking down the road when i saw a old lady on the side of the road a pulling coffin, When I asked the lady what she was doing with it, she said its for my husband and i said “oh sorry to hear about your loss” . the old lady replied with “oh hes not dead, Its his birthday gift”
oh damn. what are those cars called?
that carry bodies? uh shit.
kay well at drivers ed today, Josh was telling us about HOV lanes, and said that in the US somewhere this guy propped up dead bodies in his car so that it looked like he had more passengers.
thats awful..
ps. you know i dont hate you! :D
Coffins are to bury the dead and they hold many secrets as well. Do not bury me in a coffin…place me by the sea and allow the waves to carry me away
i am going to eat myself into a coffin. I am so disgusted by those who are overweight yet I am ignoring my own slow and painful descent into obesity! I am a hypocrite and I don’t know how to stop myself. I need help.
coffin means you are dead. or a vampire. vampires are really popular these days. the vampire diaries. edward cullen and the rest of twilight. kristen stewart looks like such a tweaker. rob pattinson is super sexy. his style’s super hot. i wish i has a boy who looked like him.
I don’t like to think about my mortality. I’m pretty sure I’m going to kick death in the ass and live forever. Although, I suppose if I ever find the need to get a coffin, I’m going to insist on a fancy, pimped out one. Just enough to be considered a compensation for my shitty life. Just enough.
As I laid in the coffin, smelling the old whiskey in the walls from back when my small niche had been used to horde the substance, I thought only of how I missed the feral landscapes of home and how the heat reflected back on to her satin contours emblazoning her with amber complexion.
Fear and greed. I’m greedy for more years on top, outside the coffin although I’ve already lived longer than most of the human race historically–it’s never enough. Coffin confines. Coffin is a waste. Life moves on and coffin will be forgotten and rot in obscurity. Better to be scattered to the winds than confined to become slime.
a coffin is where i’d like to sleep. the enclosure would feel secure. if only it could be done safely now.
sometimes i dream of being dead/undead. it doesn’t feel scary, it feel like home.
i’m not sure quite why.
every year around this time, i become wistful for that fabled dead home.
death, cold, worms going thru your body. Licking your eyes and burning your soul. pine, wood, cheap, not needed. cremate me.
red silk surrounds me
a blanket wrapped around my head I lay on my back.
So tired
my eyes close
but I cannot get this image out of my head
red silk sheets
black walls
a bed
or a coffin
Packing the suitcases, hammering the nails. Getting out of this zombie town and heading towards a life with ghosts. We are going on a trip to nowhere.
The coffin was lowered slowly into the ground as the preist read out the final words of the sermon. It was gray and a drizzle was starting to fall from the sky. The grass was soaked with perspiration. Beside me, Lola cried.
He sucked my blood. He told me it taste metallic; he has thirsted on better. He then told me that I didn’t deserve a wooden coffin, but a metallic one, to match.
this brings to mind what will become of me when i am in that tomb. my friend stevens grandpa died the other day and it made me start thinking about death again. Is there an afterlife. I can get to a certain part in my mind of thinking about what will happen but then it just stops and all i can see in my mind is black.
Oh Fuck! Am I dead? Well, I guess it’s pretty comfortable in here anyway. Kinda stuffy though. Nice pine fresh scent too. Wish those people outside would shut up though: they’re ruining my beauty sleep.
A coffin is a wooden box you sleep in when your dead. you have a funeral and are buried underground at a graveyard. vampires sleep in coffins. vampires are creepy. edward cullen is hot, though. you kill a vampire with a wooden stake. ide never kill a cullen.
It was dark again. Devin hated coffins; he really did. It was dirty work, digging them up and prying them open for whatever jewels or other trinkets that still lay with the dead. The bugs and insects of the earth were more bothersome to him than to his dead aquaintences.
he leaned over the edge of the open casket. It came as a shock to him that his mother was wearing makeup. She never wore makeup. She believed it was better to be natural than superficial, and that included makeup. He could only imagine who could have told the artist otherwise.
I watched out the window as the sun set. With the sunset, my future was flying out of the window. Tomorrow, I would face the guillotine. But I knew it was coming. Ever since I acted against the country for the revolution, I had sealed my coffin. I heaved a sigh of resignation. It was all over.
black and desolate
you sit waiting for nightfall
oiled yet creaking hinges open
waiting for someone
darkness falling
is only if only
close your lid
hide away pain and suffering
close doors and hope for closure
Coffin makes me think of death, and ashes. Coffins are where bodies are placed. Small, tight closed spaces.
Coffin? I just think of the baby blue coffin at Gaga’s funeral. I hope my family gets me a nice one like that when i die.
It had the patina of rustic charm. The worn timber in varying hues of death and decay, the rusty elegant seized latch…
i saw it. a coffin. i thought it was a dream. but as i looked at its gleaming cherry red finish and the soft white comfort inside i realized i wanted it. i wanted to be in that coffin. i wanted to embrace the coldness and finality that was eternal sleep.
it is old and rusted. the nail that seals the wooden box needs to be replaced.
“How much?” the old man said
“it’s 300 dollars” a stout man just balding behind the counter said. peering over his newspaper nonchalantly tallying the amount.
“alright”
the man took the box and left.
the green grassed field seems to lie calm under
grey stains of rain
underneath this seemingly innocent lies
the living dead that dance on a day when no living is present
hmm this is really random
i have died and im in a coffin