DEAR ENPAL PEOPLE, a poem to the dark;-?>

worn out faces
empty starks from deepest embraces
once called on together
never true alone even better

neon lights
blame them on the lonely nights
in advance
I get the train traffic another chance

elevated the chills
things that can't be drowned upon stupid pills
done with healing
now the skin put to the pealing

set red to the lies
gazes speak in dresses fancy to die
time scattered on the desk slow motion
in a black marker all clear devotion

eternal freeze
when the upside embraced the back some disease
contagious when escaped
cant **** even when baked


                                                                                ----ravenfeels

What do you drink to get the purple out of my tongue? What do you take to forget? The picture
of white lady on the mirror chanting ****** mary. The video of being spanked. The layout of the patterns. It is all made into a trail. Wishing to cloak, I thought it worked but it was only a blanket. The blinking lights of the window.  It manages to ***** me and remind me of competition in traffic. The list. Lists. Numbered. Keep scrolling. Will it affect my life?

Needing to fit the box of a ten-year old, I sleep. Then, I post. That was not myself. How did this whole page about me belongs to someone else? I never drift before. Why, I wonder. Here comes the businesses. The banquets. Watching a flute get Tarzan'd by a piece of rope hanged across the room. Out of the blue, I found myself touring with a foreigner. What does he want from me? Is it wrong to think this way? He only asked me where I live and how I am. I stop. I feel the chills burning through my hands to fingers. The bones get cold, but do not when plugged by nerves.

I-I'm addicted? I need to sleep more. It's healthy, they say. It's fun.


When was the last time I had fun?


The more I see the light, the more I hate it. I bring the shutters down. Relaxing. Freeing. Pink flower keep falling. Peach flower keep shimmering. How come I never thought of it before? Now back to sleep. Wait, I can't sleep anymore. But everything's so festive. Are the photos not alive? But they frequently chatter. To me. And you---no me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Branded into these pixels of prizes and sporks full of dramatic dressings. What is meaning again? I kick the blanket out of the bed. I threw my pillows on the other side. It's hot. Everything's so hot. My air conditoner is on max---what's happening?? No, sleep!

It does not take long for me to gasp for air. I keep denying it but it is always in the back of my mind.

The only answer is to get out.

I try by slowly lifting my legs and down to the floor. Do I really? Now? This is the only answer. I repeat thrice. I'm getting old.

A wind caresses my cheek. I forgot I was even in a house.

Dream's over.

Lights and all the shades
That its shapes throw,
Etched along the path of its travel
Are the moments it creates
Where we're wasting away
The time of our lives
In the hope that a beam
Will wash it all away,
Give us the enlightenment
For which we all pray
Let the wave of brightness
Pass through the keyhole
Of this dark room of life,
Make you look impeccable
While in reality
You're only
Dusting yourself off,
Picking up the pieces left over
In the wake of destruction
Caused by your own self,
The smile is unreal,
Not fake
You still carry hope
In the middle of all the cries
Some days you fall,
Other days you shall rise.