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Laokos Jun 18
every summer,
there's
dead baby birds
on the
walkway leading
to the
entrance of
my apartment
building.

last summer there
were three, all
pinked skin, just
a few inches
apart
from each other.

the ants
found them
first, scurried all
over them,
devouring
what
they could before
the cat(s) got
to them
at night.

this summer i've
only seen one,
nice and
plump with
plumage. this
morning
it was gone
too though,
nothing but
the pile
of tree seeds
it was on
remains.

they nest there,
in the dryer
exhaust
vents on
each floor.
-drawn there, I
guess, by the
warmth
and lofty protection
from predators.

thing is, they
clog the exhaust
with their nests
and people
complain about
wet clothes.


...warm

and safe from
predators,


but not safe
from one
phone call
to management.
He found himself living in apartment 3
Then he moved to apartment 33
From there he travelled abroad
Only to return
Now he lives in room 7
He thought it would've been a house
Though the smallest of all
From this room 7 ... Magic flows
Up into the heavens
It reaches so far
Beyond the stars
The real stars
Not mortal beings who claim to be so
At night if you look closely
You shall observe an electric blue streak
Reaching upwards towards the sky
See to whence it leads
This line requires no phone
And shall remain uninterrupted
Until one day
He shall go to where this blue streak leadeth
Written by Sean Achilleos 19 January 2019©
www.facebook.com/SeanAchilleosOfficial/
Sean Achilleos' Music is available on the following platforms:
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Sean Achilleos' Book 'An Affair with Life' is obtainable from the following platforms:
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Kewayne Wadley Oct 2018
Her heart is an apartment.
A building I know well.
Well lit, comfortably nestled in the center of her chest.
Free from rent.
The trouble of pink slips.
Delinquent notices of insecurity.
Broken promises.
Each of our memories kept safe, behind each & every door.
A winding case of stairs.
With us the occupants of every  floor.
Tiny peep holes with welcome mats beneath the door.
It's times like this when I think how big the world really is.
The countless number of steps taken.
Helping each other unpack our bags.
On the outside of each sliding door is a patio.
The stars never seemed so close.
Long uninterrupted stares.
Peering back and forth.
Our belongings all lined up.
A dresser that holds every piece of clothing.
My arms, legs.
All slid into the thought of you.
Her heart is a apartment.
A building I know well.
She loved old things.
Her heart sterdy, each piece of mail addressed with a kiss.
The only knock heard, goes without embarrassment.
We,
The tenants.
spend most of our time visiting ourselves.
Running up and down the stairs.
Moving in was the best decision I ever made
Bexis Sep 2018
No matter how hard you work...
No matter how much you make...
No matter how much it takes...
It is never enough.

Let me say that again!
It it never enough.
You live your whole life to make as much as possible.
No matter the cost.

Work 3 jobs, work over 60 hours a week.
Only to get a 2 bedroom, 2 bathroom apartment.
Because you have to have your own bathroom.
You have to have the best of everything.

You talk about your dream house.
Yet you can't even afford to fix up the house you live in.
Talk about how many people are going to leave you money when they die.
Why?
To talk about how rich you'll be.

Here I am.
Scraping by.
In a cheap apartment.
Barely afford to get groceries.

But you know it's no skin off my back.
I have something way better than being rich.
At least I have a place to live and a job.
I have a girlfriend who I would die for.

Some things are better than money.
I am glad I know this.
I am glad I don't run in circles for it.
Life is what you make it.

If that's what you make it about, that's okay.
I choose to believe there is more to life than that.
Dogslinwriter Aug 2018
So I woke up to heavy rains.
It's 7:30 pm.
I recall 3 incidents.
1) I was 13. I ran 2 laps in the morning because I had forgotten to wear the right kind of socks to school. I was really tired. I fell asleep after coming back from school. I was happy because there won't be any school tomorrow due to the heavy rains.

2) I was 17. I and my boyfriend were sneaking out. And it started to rain. It was drizzling at first. But it got heavier and heavier. We rain danced in a deserted park. It was a long evening. I bunked the class, and I had school the next day. But I was happy.

3) I was 27. I had a job which I got after lots of hard work in college. It was a tiring day. I knew the work I was doing wasn't something I wanted to do. I still woke up and went in every day. It was 8:00 pm. I had to prepare things for the next day. But I didn't want to move. My phone had a text, "Good work today", from my boss. But I knew it wasn't. It was raining heavily. I remembered the night with my boyfriend. Thinking, " I should have run away that night. Not with him. But after," And I should have caught a train and should have gone to Neverland. It would have been better than this."

I am 30 now. A beginner in photography. I work with 20-year-olds. And work under 25-year-olds. It's raining heavy. And I had the best shot last night. Tomorrow national geographic is featuring me. I have a big car, from my last job. I live in a smaller apartment now. I am happy.
I know which socks to wear.
I walk out the door and start dancing in the rain.
It's 7:45 pm.
It's raining heavily.
mismatched furniture
a few dishes in the cupboards
a couple random blankets and lamps
a pan and a mug or two in the sink
a broken clock above the fake fireplace
a fake jackalope head on the fireplace

a couple college kids' apartment
my brother and his roommate
it isn't much but it feels like home
A Simillacrum Jul 2018
Best expressed in a word for the listening,
"****."
People are *****, can and will be, both.
A ****.
Is such an intrusive thing,
proposed to bore holes
and fill bored holes
with ease.
People are *****, can and will be, both.
***** infiltrate.
***** find space.
***** will push
sometimes
when you
push them
away.
***** will push
sometimes
when you
give them
a, "No."
Kewayne Wadley Jun 2018
I know this may sound strange.
To know if we could meet again
As if the first hasn't happened.
The same sleepless nights,
The beginning of Summer.
Finally asleep with the thought of you.
The nostalgia of a smile.
Wasting my time in a dream.
To think of myself as an apartment.
You the city I gaze into.
I know this may seem strange.
Staring out the patio window of a one bedroom apartment.
Searching to live in the comfort of again.
To be honest I couldn't be any happier.
The blinking buildings, the backdrop of sky.
It's almost therapeutic, the way I think of you.
To stand on the balcony at night,
Reliving the same feeling of meeting you.
Miles away from any and everything except you.
With your favorite color lighter.
Waiting to hear about your day
Sky Yang Apr 2018
i don't know when it was but one day, my apartment began to grow
cardboard boxes. they came from

nowhere
and
everywhere

all at once-- a silent
invasion, i felt a faint ache in the back of my neck but
alas, what could i do? i allowed it to
continue.

now as i sit amidst the cardboard boxes, and hear their
rich conversations
and articulate speech, i cannot help but realize that the apartment is a stage. and the boxes have more stage presence than i have ever had. and suddenly i am the most pathetic, lowly actor on this cardboard stage of cardboard boxes and i wonder to myself, where did i go wrong?
Cassandra Lane Mar 2018
There's sanity in watching you sleep at night
My anxiety sometimes doesn't let me
but watching and listening to you breath
  breath after breath
slow and soft and unconscious breathing
it's enough to melt everything else away for a while
  it's enough to make me sane again
I don't get to see it often
only when my house is closer to point A than yours
or I ask you to come keep me company
But I know soon point B will always be our apartment
We feel so lost right now
  trying to find a place to call home
But I believe we'll find it
It'll be overpriced and small
I don't know where we'll put all your shoes
  or all my camera equipment
I imagine our clothes will be packed in our suitcases forever
  because there won't be any closet space
We'll be too close to the freeway and the trucks will keep us up at night
and our upstairs neighbors will be breakdancers or something
  and they'll always be on the wrong timezone
but none of that will matter
as long as you hold me
and as long as every night
  I get to hear your breathing
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