smc 13h
I can't bring myself to write
about you.
I'm so tired of chasing you
Out of the cobwebs in my exhausted brain.
My limbs are made of lead.
My fingers and toes are freezing and cracked
From dehydration.
My back hurts like I'm 98 years old
And to tell you the truth that's how old I feel
Right now.
I am SO fucking tired of the right now;
I keep burning calories
Just thinking you away
And I don't have any to burn
Because I didn't eat today.
The thought of food nauseates
And disgusts me.
I found you hiding in one of the dusty corners of my mind
And I didn't want to see you
Because I remembered EvErYtHiNg
About the first time we met.
I gagged on the bile that rose with the flurry of butterfly wings
In my hollowed stomach
And raced down Giddy Avenue without pumping the brakes.
I didn't want to, damn it.
I was compelled to
Purge you out of my system.
Just break up with me like a regular human being with a backbone. Then, go ahead and delete me from the computer screen in your control tower, you amorphous slime mold.
Chris Sanders Jun 15
Dance with me,
in the land of Fae.
Under a moonlit sky,
Until the break of day.

When night falls again,
We shall begin.
Dancing and laughing,
we find pleasure in sin.

Your beautiful smile,
Your cute grin.
We dance all day,
Until the light grows dim.

We spin on the lake,
Water spiraling away.
We kiss until the rain comes,
We hide again under the light of day.

We go on like this,
Year after year.
But something lurks,
A forgotten fear.

And Alas, we come here,
Our time, the end, grows near.
Wee meet again, your eyes hold tears,
The moon reflects, its purpose....
We all have that moment we're dreading...
Your car turns the corner and flees my gaze
As I wipe the streams of agony from my face
Dreading the miles that disconnect our bodies
And leave our hearts to face the withdrawal
The waves of pain that split cracks through my soul
The pain of waking up to an empty bed
The pain of reaching for a hand that’s no longer there
Of clinging to my phone to await the ping of your next sonnet and the ring that calls me to your voice
Of longing that has surrounded my heart with iron bars of loneliness
Of the circumstantial separation that bursts my mind into roaring flames
But I still await the next time you pull into my driveway
I still smile as I count the days until I run into your arms once again
I acknowledge that this tormenting cycle will someday end
And we’ll no longer have to endure another painfully long goodbye.
Yaser May 23
It was brought to our world from a primordial ether
that bore no resemblance to anything the human mind could ever know,
let alone comprehend.
And all those that looked upon,
stood before it, uncertain,
not of the creature,
but of the sanctity of what they once held above all as their truest sanctuary: their mind.
To feel it slip away
into an abyss not much unlike
the birthplace of the blasphemy with which they were assailed,
was a welcome development.
A new escape.
A new sanctum
Casey May 20
She contemplated waking up before the rain
In the hopes of feeling something--
Something other than dreary dreadful dread.
Maybe that sounds childish
And maybe, just maybe, that's okay.
Sanny May 19
I'm dreading.

To pack everything,
from the place we used to call ours.

The empty boxes are staring back at me.

I can't bring myself to fill them.

I'm scanning the apartment that used to be ours..

I'm seeing our history repeating itself.

I somehow see your shadow from the kitchen,
and mine from the living room.

I hear your laughter when you mess up cooking..

And suddenly you're everywhere, and I'm paralyzed.

I can't move you into boxes, and I can't leave you.

Yet I need to leave you within this walls..
Roses are red
Today I dread.
Laying in my bed.
Listening to the sounds of the dead.
Seeing where everything led.
And what kills are the voices in my head.

                           With love,
April May 5
The wall clock ticks
the timer on a bomb
I can't stop it,
reverse it
or slow it down
Each tick drags me forward, helpless
nervous to the allotted time
I can no more avoid it than the beating of my own heart
as it pounds with futility
against it's cage of bone and cartilage
The dread is an invisible demon sitting heavy on my shoulders
That only I can hear
The  sharpening of it's knives
I sweat
become pale,
then the tremor in my hands begins
My head becomes a little giddy,
my stomach nauseous
All I can do is wait on this plastic chair for my name to be called
When I would visit Ohio, my grandma always said
certain things in Spanish, as to not flood my head.

I wish I understood that secret life she led
by interpreting her knowledge, I know to have been well read,

But now my striving hunger will never be quite fed,
for now those precious, foreign words are unforgivingly dead.

Oh, how I cry very often, at night while I’m in bed.
Regrets like these don’t go away, so I try to cope instead.

I’ll never forget her loving Spanish spunk (that memory’s never fled),
even though my nostalgic heart regretfully succumbs to dread.

dread reaches both hands into my throat
to take the air from my very lungs
my breath comes shorter and shorter and i fear for my life
i lay awake, wondering when my death will arrive
how soon
how soon
how soon
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