Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
plain shapes
hose, cube, cone
colored homely
Lamp fixtures
We finish digging our graves, dug
to what we consider three feet, but
we don’t worry about measurements.

These deaths are negligible.

Coated in dirt and sweat and heaving,
we gaze at each other. We both nod,
toss our shovels aside and walk over
to our bodies. He grabs his by the wrist
and drags it across the grass. I hoist
mine into my arms and shuffle over.

They’re both dumped into the graves,
and we fill both the holes. He walks to
his car without hesitation. I pause a
moment to glare at my grave, but I don’t
offer a eulogy or prayer, only standing
there in silence. I catch up to him, throw
my shovel in the trunk, and we drive off.

He drops me at my home, and I go inside
to find my wife watching TV. My wife? I
blink, trying to focus. Yes, she is my wife.
She says “Hey honey”, and I respond with
a low “Hey”, but she doesn’t look over,
does not notice the mess. I ***** up the
stairs, counting the steps, and start a shower.

As the water warms, the mirror reveals
someone familiar. No, not familiar, this is
me. I get under the warm stream, letting it
clean away what is left of me.

-
by Aleksander Mielnikow | Alek the Poet
Latticed deja vu.
Arbor of my mind recalled.
Garden beyond; home.
Remembered dreams and new revelations
rgz Mar 13
Don't lay down just yet
I know it's not easy
Heavy crowns need rest
you can't up and leave me
You'll take me away
if you take away you
Can you really say
it's that easy to do?
suicide is never easy

https://youtu.be/gvzC8MmC850
Aisha Nov 2019
My gaze falls on you,
and everything around me
starts to slowly fade away.
For that moment, nothing
except you seems significant
and all I want is,
to tell you I feel about you,
My fierce feelings;
the familiarity of a home.

But I am not acquainted
with the idea of a home,
and that's the tragedy
of finding it
inside a person,
You cannot perpetually stay.
I've never known what home really is.
Chicken Oct 2019
He’s an old haunt
His blue eyes
I like to go in, sometimes
I like to dive in, sometimes
He lets me stay for a while
Though never leaves my side
He’s an old haunt
that I like to go in, sometimes
that I like to dive in, sometimes
Straight through the door, into
His blue eyes.
This is a seasonal write.. it could be about a person, a pub, a pool, or a spirit... you decide :->>>
Christian Bixler Aug 2019
the grey
of this tin figure
wet tile
Marii Jun 2019
And in the months I've come to know you,
I've learned to appreciate your dramatic eye rolls,
The way you carefully place yourself around the words you speak,
How your delicate fingers will try to fix all the broken things they glide past,
How you manage to fully embrace who you are, without fearing the consequences.

You are magical and I aspire to be as bold in everything I do.

I have become more aware of who I am,
I have tried to practice away my weaknesses, harder and harder.

I am grateful that I have met you in this piece of my life.

I just hope you stay a little longer and find what I have to offer.

I hope you stay and see how much you've made me want to fix myself.
Next page