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Cliona Calnan Aug 2010
the day is kind
so it seems
because the night is haunted by dreams.
flashing images of things to come
and things gone by.
sub conscious.
no control.
no way out.
you don't choose
it chooses you
it has more power than
you ever will.
it can control you
make you see things that are not there
that shouldn't be there.
you think things here
you have never thought or will think.
its not you
but its not someone else.
its not your mind
its not even your soul.

it has you where it wants you
and you will never be free
Cliona Calnan Aug 2010
She didn't expect it to hit like raining bricks,
She waited for an enemy in the dark,
Lurking, waiting, threatening

Denial was her umbrella,
the day it rained on her hope parade,
A smile will lie more than words.

So she'll retain the beaming glow,
The hammers of help pounding at her skull
Will have to wait.

She had a flicker,
I took her hope,
But as long as she's smiling,
She's winning.

My eyes are glazing with green,
She knows, She knows.

She'll win,
I'll die,
I'll meet her there
Cliona Calnan Aug 2010
My Heart must be one cold, hard thing
to think such a beast a beauty.
Dusting the land in a icy glitter,
its aim to redden the noses and
bite the cheeks of all who pass.

But i let it in,
aware of animals need for warmth,
and trees need for light.
I am selfish.
I want to capture the scene
with a click of my eyelids
and store behind beautiful.

I feel dark,
a guilty pleasure to myself.
Heart; rigid and stubborn as a broken clock.

But thoughts of Who
What
Where you are
trickle syrupy into my heart,
releasing the icy grip of the elements.
I feel loveable, normal,
like i could see good in anything.

I am scared of your power,
but in awe of your skill
for chris...
Cliona Calnan Aug 2010
Towards me walks a beautiful light,
But i ignore it with all my might
It burns me, my eyes are a flame
But my light could never shine the same

My head is pounding, my heart is screaming
From my eyes water is streaming
Have i no soul? My light is so dim,
But this light is not it, it is him

His eyes have no sight, his mind no shape,
Cover me with your glistening cape,
Immerse me in purity, drown me in grace
Show me remorse in your blinding face

My head is a jungle, full of hazardous vermin,
If i preech, you wont like my sermon,
I'll drain your soul like a blood ******* leech
And leave the whole world right out of your reach
by a younger me..
Cliona Calnan Aug 2010
Could i be the only inhabitant of the middle?
I've come halfway; Im nearly there,
But I'll never reach it.

The cool of ignorance is all too alluring,
The truth like a valley of flames,
Water, essence of my life,
Fill me, satisfy me, save me.

So I sit in limbo; equal in emotion,
Half-hearted in my attempts,
Essence, fill my other half,
Make the middle the centre:
Centre of my heart
Cliona Calnan Jul 2016
A rabid dog lies sleeping on the porch,
it has not moved for days
but i see it breathing.

the darkness spreads in
thick and heavy
taking my sight,
but i feel it,
grabbing me and pushing me down.

Now I hear it breathing. first louder then faster.
i begin to choke on the blackness, the fear of the unknown.
i crumble to the ground, melt, and disappear.

it is no longer asleep, i smell its poison breath around me like fog.
it's dense and fills my lungs.
i become a cloud of undefinable mass,
drowning those beneath me.

once i have purged, i am empty.
(i tell myself) nothing has happened.

the dog falls into slumber again.
dormant but breathing, slow and heavy.
Cliona Calnan Jul 2016
here lies a void,
like an unfinished book.

starting was never my intent.
the cover was bright and beautiful.

each page was a revelation, a new hope.

somewhere towards the middle, i began to feel uneasy.
like it had become part of me.

everything before it was lost
in a haze of obsession.

it was everything I wanted and everything i didn't.
i tried to cease. it didn't work.
I would reach for it in my sleep.

it stopped me, without my consent.
although i felt a relief,
I was not relieved.

it knew better than to let me finish
i was the poison in the bloodstream.  

now i am left with the ill feeling of loss
while it remains unchanged, unscarred and unfinished.
Cliona Calnan Aug 2010
I've seen your hand held murderess
Making note of its cool, sleek body,
Twisting and turning
Around your fingers,
Leech like.

Producing when in need of reassurance,
Its silent but deadly
At the best of times.

A strange puppet it does form;
For my entertainment
Or yours?

I wait, dumb, for the sudden ****,
I'll wait
But eventually she'll slip
From your drenched palm.

— The End —