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Hannah McMullan Feb 2016
You covered the windows with dark blinds
Shut out the lights so that your world became mine
Nights have passed
Came on and they went
Silhouettes of days that I have spent
Dreaming of what kind of world is outside,
These dark blinds.

So, again these nights have come and again they shall pass
I now do not care how long they shall last
As long as I’m caressed and you hold me tight
I will give up any urge to fight--
Fight for a life outside the world,
The world, where I am yours.

Chirp, Chirp I hear the birds croon so light
Please, once can I see their freeing flight?
No, yes of course I understand.
You’re all the sight I desire in this hourglass land.

Chirp Chirp they fly away,
Away, from these dark blinds.
Hannah McMullan Feb 2016
There are always those moments when
Those memories creep into my view
While innocently applying mascara,
There’s a glimpse sought in my green hue.
There are screaming malicious faces,
With expressions contorted in a craze.
They are wild and they are vicious
And they appear after each phase
12, 13,
             14,
                    15,
                          16,
                                 17,
                                        18
One after the another, they all gather around
Hands are joined, and their mouths are wide,
(My hands are bound?)
Bellowing a cacophony of my vices as sounds
Chanting like it’s their sacred creed.
My head spins, the urge to faint increased
But instead they push me to the white tile.
I just decide to lay there for a while.
I close my eyes to escape,

But they haven’t quite left yet…

They circle around me now
Lying helpless on the ground
The smell of musk and ***** sweep,
The scent that makes their mouths water
They all want to feast
They all want to feast
I can’t help but cry and weep

The scent makes their mouths water
They all want to feast
They all want to feast

And the bystanders, they watch me now
They are cheering as the faces bow
They enjoy watching the show
Yes, they all seem to know
They are all going to feast.

Oh these faces, these faces
They haunt me
They haven’t had their fill and they want me

It’s a past that will never leave
It’s a tired breadth that will never cease.
With arms open wide, my chest to heave
I let them take me


                  d
                           o  
                                  w  
                                         n   .
Hannah McMullan Nov 2015
She cries and screams at the accusations unsaid
But really she’s battling the darkness in her head

Writhing her fingers in the palm of her hand
Sweating, pacing, yet still her feet stand

Movement everywhere surrounding her skies
But the blinding light covers up her cries

Mouth wide open, yet no sound comes out
But look in her eyes, you’ll see the monster pounce.

In these lives of yours and mine
Which self will be revealed in the troubling times?
Hannah McMullan Nov 2015
i dream of times away
climbing up to the craterous place
where life simply washes away
and in your keep is plainly self,
there is no pronouns or health felt.
only wind, earth, fire
consuming all the heart’s desire.
people and things are not found here,
simply a body soaked in a bay’s tear
where grooves of luminous chocolate bark
protects the body’s ivory form
from never being harmed.
Hannah McMullan Nov 2015
It was when we made love on your secret bed
That I found the ceasing of my doubts.
It was in your face I found the honesty,
That laces the bond, so many try to break.
It was in the unawareness, of the dangers that surround us,
These walls that don’t forgive.
Eyes closed, mouth agape, how content you seemed to be.
Nothing mattered, nothing could
While rested on top of me.
Hannah McMullan Oct 2015
The poet’s hearts race
When the universe bleeds around them
And there’s nothing left to do
But moan the cries of Earth’s children.
They fall on the writers shoulders
Because the poets empathy shows through their eyes
And it’s in those eyes that their hands will writhe,
Their fingertips grip around the mind
Hungry.
Toes will cling to their shoes
All while the limbs connected become liquefied
By the pulsating blood that drips off their tongue
Onto their trembling fingers will caress the sacred paper,
Then,
Their body explodes into flames
As the outlandish ****** the act of creating brings
A feeling more sacred than when a lover’s touch will singe.
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