A poet suffocates on lack of words,
A blank sheet and an empty soul.
For there is nothing more torturous,
Than when his muse renounces her role.

Your words fall
           like webs.

And you are the spider
              waiting for the

eventual tug, to cocoon
                        my failures.



But my wings are stronger
              than your silk wordings.






And I fly free of your sorrow
             that you tried to capture
                                     me within.



Your alone, in your web of loneliness.


             And I flutter freely.

He stared
Walking up
The ally
At the thought
He once kept

The ball
Rolling along
His footprint

He stood
There searching
Somewhere between
Madness and emptiness

Don’t you see him?

He sits in the corner,

Spending hours and passing judgment

On all I have to say.

Don’t you see him?

He tormented me

With questions and answers

Spending money and passing time

With all I have to provide.

Don’t you see him?

He is a dark shadow

That gathers on the edge of my mind

And fades along

With the disappearance of night.

Little spiders crawl on me as I try to
sleep. But I pay them no mind. They’ve
wandered around here for years,
claiming their deserved space, though
I’m sure they’ve been around long
before I moved in. I used to freak out
as their tiny legs made the trek across
one shoulder to the next and down my
arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps. It
was like a muzzle ****** to the back
of my head, or the first time soft,
caring fingers made their way across
my undressed skin. But now I could not
care less. These little ******* are
now my friendly acquaintances, and
they crawl around all they want.


-
by Aleksander Mielnikow

The pain remains.
My heart is drained.
Will you ever change?
As my mind is detained.
By the thoughts of your complains.
I think to myself.
Could you be the one I wake up next to?