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Cold rain falls
Patters on my head
I look to the sky
My eyes turn red
Flickering pupils
Dilated so wide
I tear off my shirt
Embracing skies tide
I open my mouth
To catch some raindrops
Tasteless liquids
Nothing makes the pain stop
Collected water boils inside
My mouth once dry
It's now a simmering ***
The demons inside me
Make everything hot

Deep inhalation of fresh air
I understand why I'm here now
I'm no longer scared
Steam streams out of my body
My hands are on fire, my lips tingle
I look to my left, a lamppost glows
I turn to my right I see people mingle
Outside a late night cafe, their life simple
A bus stop ahead with two people there
A man and woman, he touches her hair

I place the palm of my hand on the lampost
Just to lean and wonder how I'm here
The shade bursts and sparks fly
The woman at the bus stop screams
"Nooo I don't want to dieeee"
As the fluorescent lights fizzle and pop
The man she's with falls to his knees
Grasps his head "no please make it stop"
The small group of people freeze
Outside the cafe they violently fit
I don't know what's happening
I assume it is me doing this
I try to let go of the lamppost beside me
Pulling my arm with the other hand

I finally break free
I too now fall to my knees
Getting up is hard
My joints creek
With mechanical movements
I go over to see
The couple at the bus stop
The girl lays on the floor now
I shake her but she is surely dead
Her eyeballs have melted to red goo
The man still firmly grasping his head
Looking at him I don't know what to do
He chants repeatedly in words unheard

The people outside the restaurant
They're all still fitting
People are with them now from inside
I step backwards in to the bus shelter
Fear surges through me again
My conscious spirals a helter-skelter
Trying to hide from the people outside
Hearing sirens now my eyes dilated wide
I'm clueless as to what has happened
Panicking I run past the lamppost
Glancing at it as I pass
A dark black hand print is melted in
.
.
.
.
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I have never written anything like this.
Your criticism will be greatly appreciated.
brandon nagley Jan 2016
One hari, and his Reyna
Riding the chariot of
The otherworldly;



©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)
Hari and Reyna means- king and queen in Filipino...

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