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You shake and tremble inside,
As howling pierces through the stain glass.
For you have ran from the devil’s ride,
His born demon growling after your ***…

As you have made it through the chapel door,
You pray the lock keeps you safe and warm.
Your soul shakes and rattles to the core,
Around you your love is torn.

What is left of candlelight,
Forces you to fret among the pews.
For no one can save your soul tonight,
Bleeding outside your lover’s heart he chews…

Thunder strikes the cross to fall and crack down,
You choke and pray your dear rosary.
Your screams beg to awaken the town,
Asleep they are, Wolfberry.

So sweet the taste a wolf wants,
And sweet the taste the wolf will get too.
Scratching and clawing the wood it haunts,
Just a couple more seconds to get through.

Tackled down the door revealing the moon,
The death of darkness has fixed red eyes.
Your blood to the beast is not immune,
He latches on your demise…
Nickolas J McKee Dec 2021
Sometimes I say ‘hey’ to your ghost,
For it hurts me when I’m alone.
Silent black shadows to visit,
Yearning - aching distant the moan…
Of times I tried to talk to you,
it’s better to let you walk by.
Sometimes we ask ourself, ‘Whose gone?’
Never asking each other, ‘Why?’
Of cold lonesome hands to grasp on,
Miles away eternity.
Not to have the love we so need,
We shift and evolve deadly glee.
So what are you that I can see -
Lonely a ghost to let me be?
I S A A C Nov 2021
your haunting hands, my anxious eyes
your passion burning leaves me hypnotized
by the glow of the flame, its unpredictability
the heat of the flame, but you are so undeserving
should be perfuming my body in your kisses
should be dancing your fingers in my rivers
they call out your name, haunted even in the day
haunted at every sight of rain and Janelle Monae
we were in the eye and I was naive
now my anxious eyes follow me
and your haunted hands lead me
to an inner journey to find the key
to unlock and unblock my potential
Riley Nov 2021

don't forget to keep breathing
cradle-rock your heart
soothe your ribs
don't forget to breathe


the cold is natural
bundle up now
you can always shed
your skin
when the sky turns


don't linger
in the places you once Were
keep moving else
your blood settle


late night parking decks
hotel rooftops
yourSelf a whisper
honeysuckle blooms through
concrete wounds


don't think about waking
ripping out of your body
clawing through the coffin and up
and up

your gravesite is spotless still


cool rich earth
lilies and lavender
whisper rustle of leaves


heavy water
lake mud and rock ****
desperate silence


H u n g e r


slow opening
granite doors and damp moss
spaces between absent heartbeats


the hollow is natural
the brain craves familiarity
the phantom mirrors the physical
the hunger will fade
for a time


when eating cherries
don't forget to imagine a tongue


remorse with me
may the living one day
bestow our graves with offerings
we starve in silence


hollowing may beget holiness
but it doesn't denote such
divinity must be earned
few buildings have managed


you can almost smell his skin
stomach rising and falling
best not to dwell
his life is no longer yours


phantom petal flesh
teeth and thrush
rosethorn oleander s e e p ing black
curses and
  forest rot


do not follow
when the wind asks your counsel
when the moon thorn buds
when the night screams bruiseblueblack
do not seek the woods alone


don't dwell
it's natural to feel exposed
keeping space beside you
will only make missing them worse


let the ceiling fall
it is beyond your power
stars make fairy lights
through the frame of branches
as it should be


Death is a story keeper
an archivist
a library of everything
from the first atoms
to the last sparks


don't worry
the house hasn't moved
since you last saw it
though the tree seems closer


press yourself into
the size of a fist
wrap clockwise around
his heart
cherish the fleeting creature


there is always
my s p a c e
left in the bed
when I come home to


there is
My space
left in the house
when I come Home to



missed exit
streetlights smeared by rain
vacant hotels
liminality made nostalgia


tracing paper kisses
early spring thaw
did I melt away too


isn't is strange
your shadow doubles
film printed over film
light runs through you
heat waves off pavement


time will slip off you
don't cling to it
you'd have better luck
holding the sun
time is beyond you now


the hunger doesn’t fade
it twists itself into sickness
an unfillable void


let your heart fill
with paint and
like the nail holes in plaster
last remains smoothed over


there is no place
for you here
why do you insist on


this house is a heart
are a phantom gunshot


do you remember
a sharp pain where your lungs should be
the pressure of blood stagnant


molars, incisors, canines
rigid and Real against
the memory of your tongue
a sharpness drawing blood
staining the sidewalk beneath your false feet


your body is
wet rot and beetles
a collection of rooms
teeth and stomach and hollowing all disarticulated
a knife in a box


sunlight breaking dust layers
the curtains wave lazily
someone has tracked mud through the halls
a splintered attic door hangs off
its hinges
the air tastes green


when you finally become hollowed
the space between houses
the space between ribs
the space between teeth
the light that pours out
you will be made holy
in your Own image


thick ozone at the back of your throat
rainless thunder rolls
the old piano shuffles untouched
a discordant funeral keen
the air ignites


elevator doors close
stale cigarettes and cleaning chemicals
fluorescent buzzing
vacant sobs in an airy tomb
of concrete


parking decks remain
a kind of home base
for those of us lacking liminality
every one is the same
and as such becomes intimately familiar
no matter how far it means you are
from home


how many eyes are you supposed to have
what about teeth
count them in the mirror


beauty is in the eye
gnashing teeth
silent weeping
love lies not in the heart
nor head
but in the stomach


skin peels back
muscles made of embroidery thread
birch bones bleeding
flesh transmuted


you move through the world
as it moves through you
silently creeping
swirls of smoke and fog
filling up to your sternum


for a time
everything will be unfamiliar
on your journey and
to a stranger’s home


dust to dust
and ashes to ashes
your headstone crumbles
your bones are meal
the world in which you haunt
will one day be far removed from
your own


study the web
the winding and stretching of gossamer
collapsed in on itself
clustered with dew


study the shell
the crests and smooths hard as bone
fragile against your fingers
an inner matrix of holes


study the nest
the braiding weaves of branch and thread
fractured to one side
feathers slip asunder


study the desk
the crags and slopes of precarious inkstaining
spilling frozen towards the floor
fine filtering of dust


what Precisely is a


Congratulations on Completing Part I of Your Introduction Handbook
Please Continue onto Part II


fallow hearts sewn full of seed
bones with the crack and bend of trees
pressed petal flesh bruiseblack at the knees
when building a new body don't forget what it needs


liminality is a current
riptide in some places
burble in others
watch for waterfalls
death doesn’t mean you're a strong swimmer


builders write messages
on the innermost workings
of their buildings
behind the plaster disintegrating and
the wallpaper peeling
a belly button
a birthmark


when the moon calls your name
when the raven screeches warning
when the voices of a house offer deals


kitten-footed fog
follow it through
the tall thin trees
until you see lights
then follow it


tell me about humanity
does it hurt you
is it heavy to bear
or is it just breathing
one foot in front of the other
a faded photograph


rivers slip blue
through the land like veins
cornflower and cobalt
cold tissue paper flesh


missed connection
you left flowers
three graves down
I was in white
under the maple tree


missed connection
you look so lovely
in blue
I'm right here
just turn around


missed connection
every sunday
you walk
bakery library home florist cemetery
you talk to yourself
I always answer


missed connection
you talk in your sleep
do you sense I'm there
deep in your bones
do you know you'll never
be alone again


missed connection
I smashed a plate
and spent all night playing
in your wires
can you feel me now
in the light bulbs humming


missed connection
you haven't spoken since
it's so silent I could be heard
I'm sleeping in the walls
singing for you


missed connection
you were up all night
researching the supernatural
I'm right here
just see me


missed connection
sunday you started talking
to me
we took a new walk
library shopping district cemetery home
notes and candles and blacksalt
a rubbing of my gravestone


missed connection
nothing we tried worked
you still can't see me
you can just hear
my humming in the power sockets
my singing in the walls


missed connection
I wrote you a letter
with leaves under your staircase
you swept them without noticing
singing one of my songs


missed connection
you found a picture of me
framed it
sometimes you leave letters
my name on the front
hidden in the table drawer


missed connection
I tried writing on glass panes
whispering in your ears
you tried spirit boards
seances and divination
I'll never stop
as long as you live


missed connection
you stopped leaving letters
sunday walks abandoned
for living friends
I shorted out the tv
you don't come home much


missed connection
you started driving
to nowhere
I tucked myself
the back seats
you locked eyes with me
through oncoming headlights


missed connection
I broke every mirror
ran screaming through the wires
the curtains are catching fire
can you still feel me
do you still know I'm here


missed connection
you look so lovely
in black
just turn around
please turn around
I'm right here
a long-form poem about being a ghost
s y kalindara Nov 2021
A string of unrequited loves
invade my mind amid restless sleep,
four AM dreams under starless skies occupied by
pretty schoolgirls with rosy cheeks.
Seven years flowed under the bridge,
yet one of the many unspoken faces stands out
uncloaked in the mist of corridors and the early stir
of shuffling feet and uniform skirts,
my breath catches in my throat as I think of her.

I think back to our interlacement inside those four solid walls,
how I had met you through gossiping whispers and scribbles on bathroom stalls,
our paths had crossed in late winters and spring,
but those summer conversations changed everything.

By now the details are coated in dust,
but I remember the shifting air around us
wrapping me in enchantment,
and I knew I hadn't known euphoria
until I'd tasted my name on your tongue,
and I've only ever been sober
but the sound of your voice could get me drunk.

You wore a shell unlike whatever held your notoriety
and I never saw it coming, like an English storm brewing,
getting caught in the middle of it all until
it became this game of counting midnights, pacing, waiting
for the day our fingerprints stamped the same staircase railing.

I'll bet my eyes that your deathless beauty is just as haunting
as it was when I looked up at your raven hair against jasmine skin
and eyes rimmed with shadows that got me thinking
how close can our skin skim before it gets too intimate?

Transposed to a time when
what made me float the most
were your glances,
brushing hands and
hugs between classes,
and all your excuses
for patching my bruises,
to wiping blue paint off the curves of your face
and suppressing the urge
to crop the space
between our flustered breaths and parting lips,
I'd still give anything to have that kiss.

These days, I recite your letters to my bedroom ceiling at every turn
and they echo back to me in harmonies, as sacred as scripture.
How do lost words in stale, stained ink still make me yearn, crash and burn
until I'm screaming to the sea before me that you slipped through my fingers?

In retrospect, I think it's fair if I called it love
and that's something I won't apologise for.
Perhaps someday, I could stand up with a hurdling heartbeat and tell you
that I loved you the way Emily loved Sue
in glistening pink, purple and blue.

Copyright © 2021 by S. Y. Kalindara. All rights reserved.
Apparently the major crush I had on this girl I knew back in highschool wasn't a phase. I'm bisexual, which isn't as hard to admit now, but it was back then. I was 14/15/16 & growing up in a really religious & homophobic region & all these thoughts I had, felt so shameful to me. I'll still never admit them to her even though I think she felt the same way, it still feels way too risky to say. And my sexuality is something I keep hidden when I'm back home but I feel comfortable sharing it online & in poems, so thank you for reading this if you've gotten this far. **

(P.S. you can follow me on instagram, if you'd like to @sykmusings ♡)
Gerald Jun 2021
Sometimes you can feel the void. The emptiness. You can feel the wind blow through the chambers of your heart.

And sometimes, there's a haunting silence; the sound of ghosts of all the people I've ever loved.
Invisibility is a cliché wish,
But a night spent staring at the ceiling
Or the wall
With the feeling of existence
Washed to the minimum
By consumption,
Creates a similar feeling
Of invisibility to the senses.

I wish not for invisibility,
I wish to be your ghost
For exclusively your eyes
To witness me
As a shooting star
Scratches the sky
Leaving no trail
For those who missed it.
I hope I don’t miss
The trail of the gentle scratch
You leave in your last touch,
Letting this fleeting moment pass
Without recognition until lost.

If you spend forever in a single moment,
It’s not just a moment anymore,
For if you lose sight of me,
I'll erode away in the river
That you'll toss me in.
Emergence to accept defeat
That I let such a moment
Dissipate to become a lifetime
Of regret is the pressure point
In my mind regarding you.
Losing you now would be unforgivable,
Don’t let me go.
45 lines, 207 days left.
Andrew Apr 2021
Intrusive Thoughts
A Heavy Darkness Follows
Perceptions With Guilt
I Feel Hollow
Really I See Through
Still I See Too
The Parts That I Block Out
To Help Me Feel Better About Choices
I Make I'm Afraid
I'm Hearing Voices
Reminding Me What I Did
I Feel Sarrow Bleeding Through My Eye Lids
So Many Ways I See In Situations
Making Descions That Better Me
Make Me Feel Anxious
I Can't Comprise What I'm Contemplating
I Let People Go
I Need Myself
I Need Calm My Mind And Free My Self
All These Abilities Will Heal Me And Feul Me
Or Haunt Me And **** Me
No Longer Can I Step A Side
I Take A Breath Then I Step Out Side
The Sky I Gaze Upon
I See A Grave I'm On
I'm Processing And Analyzing
All, Micro Everything
It's Hard To Relax And Feel The Energy
Shamanic Path Dealing With The Entities
I Watch The Embers In Our Hearts
And It's Crippling
To Feel The Sensations Of Mysery
And Try To Justify It With A Beautiful Mystery
I'm To Complex For The Simple Things
I Need To Get Right
Or I Must **** My Self
I'm Praying Lets Make A Pact
Help Me Heal My Self
Doctors Don't Understand Me
There Ain't A Plan B
I Even Feel Distant With My Family
They See Me In The Past Warped
Off Built Perceptions
I Want To Lay On Train Tracks
And Leave Earth
But I Can't Leave A Message
It Would Take Life Times
To Say All My Perceptions
I'm Looking For A Balance Of Peace
Not A Place In Heaven
My Mind Is Infinite And Open
Others Are In A Box
Hope I Don't Get Locked Up
Cos I Can't Knock It Off
I'm Built With
Magick Within
In A Skin Full Of Sin
That Is Thinning
I Can See My Ashes In Dust
Do The Pros Weight Out The Cons
When I'm Adding Em Up
Nobody But Me Can Convince Me
When I Had Enough
Emotions Can Feel Disturbing
And Mold Like
Got To Hold Tight
On What I Want To Be
Not An Old Life
I Feel Like A Vampyre
On A Cold Night
I know Right
Here I Go Again
I Fantasize
How To Shape Shift
Through Candle Light
I Opened Up My Mind To See Things In Ways With Out Confirming To A Single Structure Or Foundation
Battle With Insanity, I Hate It
Sizzle Like Its Satin
Wheeping But I Make It
I See Ghost Upon A Swing
Some Lady In A White Dress
That Dances Through A Grass Feild
The Flowers Dead
Black Roses By My Feet
Is That My Seat
Bloods Clogging The Sink
Meditate In A Casket Just Too See What It Means
Purgatory Screams
The Agony In Dreams
Absence Or Achieve
At The Grave Yard
Writing Poetry Under A Tree
It's Raining
I Admire The Leaves
As They Blow With The Wind
I'm Cold As Ice If You Touch My Skin
Romance And Poetry
Is What I Know
I Used To Hold On The Thorns
Now I Let Go
Observing As Everything Unfolds
Is There A Purpose
Is This A Show
Will The Ones That I Love Most Read What I Wrote
Insides A Symphony
Haunted By The Oak
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