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Nayana Nair Apr 2018
The colors that have drained
from the dreams of people,
lie cluttered on the doorway
of their homes.
Everytime they try to leave
for something more practical
and more safe life, that they chose,
that awaits them everyday
and does not keep them worrying
about what all they can loose.
Everytime they step out,
even in hurry,
they sidestep that clutter.
Look at it from the corner of their eyes
and for a second their heart seems aware
of the frost that is killing it.
For a second the reasons for the
sleepless night and blank gazes is recalled.
But the limbs keep moving
to keep a distance from hopes
that never materialize.
On their way back home
they dread to see
the clutter of discarded dreams.
But they want to believe
that ignoring and forgetting it
becomes easier with time.
Although it never has.
Nayana Nair Mar 2018
I place myself in the center of room
as you panic to pack up your stuff,
being careful that nothing is left behind.
There are flowers growing in the corners of the room
that ask you to stay.
There are green skies
that we painted.
There are flaws your and mine
that decorate this wall.
There are TV channels
that we can surf through,
there are days to be wasted.
And I want to waste them with you.



I want you to stay.
I almost blurt it out.
But had it not been for these flowers and skies
and days written in color of your name,
I could have left
to find the dreams I never had.
There is a chandelier
of blood red glass
of your sighs and goodbyes.
I know you are not running away from me
but from our devils,
from our destruction,
that lay between us
every night.
Tiana Marie Mar 2018
"You'll be fine," They told me.
"It'll be okay," They said.
But did they hear the words they called me?
Did they hear the things they said?

Have they lived a life of torture?
Perhaps they've felt deranged?
Have they gone and hid in the corner
wanting desperately to change?
her ***** was red
she was
an
grown
woman

she pounced
an
panted
like an
panther
thought she was my answer
she sharpened her nails
with an file
made
of
cancer

we blew her
the
cure

now she is able to endure

she puts me in her cage
plays with me
once
an
day


she holds me down
she makes me ready
i
am
her
clown
we are
paper
machetes


in
her
seas

i
am
anchored
she was first
to let me
spanker
?





























...
..
.
duel me
in
your
...
..
.
Kate Willis Feb 2018
I found Fear on a street corner
with his hands stuck in his pockets
and a whistle between his teeth.
We waited for the light to switch,
for the two of us to go our separate ways
and never meet again, that is until one of us mourns the other.
But as we stood there I clicked my jaw back into place
And nodded up at the large red hand holding us in place.
“This thing’ll never change, will it?” I offered informal banter,
yet Fear turned his shoulder to me and continued
the shrill notes between his two front teeth.

After a moment Fear craned his neck,
the whistling stopped.
“I don’t talk to strangers,” he replied quickly
and returned his gaze to the street light above. I shuffled
my feet and pondered
about stepping into traffic
letting the cars sweep me into the air and take me far away from here.

I had one foot on the dark pavement –
“I wouldn’t do that,” his voice came through the whistling
but the sound never ceased. He didn’t
turn, but through the back of his head I could feel his eyes on me,
tears threatening to spill down his cheeks.
“Getting run over hurts –
getting run over by ten cars hurts worse,” he said.

I stood in silence but didn’t move my foot from the pavement.
“For someone who doesn’t talk to strangers,
you have a lot of life advice,” I huffed and brought my foot back to the sidewalk.
Fear’s shoulders tensed, his hoodie scrunched, the cowl brought up over his head.
In one quick movement, he moved on the ball of his foot to face me,
but only his silhouette came through the shadowed fabric
And he said to me,
“why else would I be here?”
As if he were some sort of god sent
down to protect me?
To keep me from stepping into traffic and–

“You have a lot of nerve -,”
but he was gone and the light had turned, a brisk person in place
instead of the hand.
My neck cracked as I searched for him but
Fear was gone.

And I was left alone with three seconds on the timer before I’d be frozen
in place again with only one foot ahead or behind.
So, I shuffled across the street toward
a destination unknown, and found myself
at the mercy of my own actions.
I never saw Fear again.
Hidden Glade Jan 2018
I wrote myself into a corner.
1,000,000 dreams I just can't place,
and you know you're not all of them
but maybe you're half of them?

Because when I close my eyes and think of you,
I can't ever sleep because if I think about you
then I love you, you consume me
and I need you.

I found myself in a corner again.
I found two souls I pair with, for now.
I warned both of them, and neither shied away.
and they both want to call me theirs.

And what's a wirter to do, when they
keep writing themselves into
a corner?
Colm Oct 2017
Everywhere I go
She’s in the corner of my eyes
Like a fly
But I don’t mind
I don’t mind
Who would mind? LOL
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