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272 · Sep 2017
The Gala
Nebunebu Sep 2017
What meaningless faces
Do we encounter this dawn
Impatient attendees
With invites still drawn

Do tell of the obstacles
Which delayed your arrival
As I simulate empathy
Composing a smile

While looking I notice two
Uninvited guests
Holding glasses of years ago
In midnight blue dress

We trade our endearments
And share our resent
For this pompous event
We were forced to attend

These perfect two strangers
Feel like oldest of friends
While the evening blooms later
Then wilts to and end

They drag me away
To a storage room suite
Not far from the noise
Yet too far to perceive

The left holds my tie
And the right holds my drink
They shamelessly whisper
Intentions for me

I sit her atop
Of an old charcoal desk
She shyly commands me
While gripping my neck

I hold back apologies
For seams that I tore
Each desperately compete
To show they want me more

The moon lends it's light
Through the window's grey tint
We lay in the dark
We lay void of regret
253 · Jun 2017
A Vase Among The Woods
Nebunebu Jun 2017
A vase,
Among the woods
Surrounding mist and ruins
The leaves are all but lurid
To wilt, we should, we should...

A vase,
And taste the wind
Its citrus flavor lures me in
To swim in shallow promises
To sink, we should, we should...
172 · Jul 2017
An Evening Session
Nebunebu Jul 2017
About time you arrived
I thought you wouldn't show
Dreadful weather outside
Here, let me take your coat

Sit down anywhere you like
Soon we will begin
Our  session will be short,
Let's make the most of it

Let me stare into your eyes
So I can see what troubles you
What sad and long forgotten eyes
This meeting was long overdue

A soulless charlatan perhaps
I see their control over you
This silhouette that lines your past
Their never ending deja vu

I see what damage they have caused
I see it when you're trembling
You cannot help but mourn their loss
This parasitic entity

I'll cut away what still remains
With surgical precision
You let them go, you let them stay?
This now is your decision
156 · Aug 2017
Rainy London Mornings
Nebunebu Aug 2017
My words are fine exhibits
In a hidden art display
The people come from all around
To translate what they say

I'll sell my gallery
And everyone will leave

The people came from far away
Now far away they'll be
I did not realize that nothing is real until yesterday.  But then again....  Nothing real matters.
156 · May 2017
The Woman of the Creek
Nebunebu May 2017
I'll try to peak your interest
Steal your attention like a thief
I was long ago a witness
Of The Woman of the Creek

I'll tell you how i saw it all
From my first hand account
Her hair flows like a waterfall
She crawls from out the ground

My friends say not to speak to her
Lest you no longer speak
Her box of voices weighs her down
The Woman of the Creek
149 · Sep 2017
Little Broken Hollow Faces
Nebunebu Sep 2017
Wood-crafted faceless actors sloppily waltz through life; gripping tight to their personal poisons.  Never dare they meet eachother.  Never dare they interact.

"Face forward!  They won't notice your hollow face if they keep their focus on distraction.  They won't notice your broken face; be it they clinch to their own facelessness.  That white-knuckled clinch."

Julian hasn't belonged to anybody.  Some whisper that he never will.  (Whispering to themselves of course)

Dare Not Look Eachother In The Eyes.

Dare Not Speak.

Rebecca chokes on memories of Julian.  We all love Rebecca, but she'll drown on these memories.  Tell yourself that she couldn't have stopped him.  We know,

Shall we test you now?
You are walking through the bunker, as a well-dressed advocate asks your name.  What is your move?

"Dare Not Speak
Dare Not Look Eachother In The Eyes"  The little broken hollow faces said to themselves.
147 · Sep 2017
Dining Hall Hurricane
Nebunebu Sep 2017
A ring inside a box
Atop a wrinkled off-white tablecloth
Across from an unsuspecting face

He tapped his glass
Like church bells
And asked her for her life

In the dining hall
They lost it all

Between taxi rides and morning walks
Two strangers shared a dizzy waltz
Two, then four, then many more
A threshold is just another door

— The End —