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Habiba Apr 2020
I put on a weary eye,
Submit to the night sky,
And then I write;
Of how the kaleidoscope colors,
Are now melancholia infused.
Of how the travelers have become vigilant,
Of how the birth of every dawn,
Has become impotent.
Of how the nothing has become our everything,
Of how I can’t even have a chicken wing.
Of how I’m livin’ the highest of highs,
And the lowest of lows…
The night time sits on my chest,
The melancholia starts to infest,
My very mount Everest.
The darker hues unfold,
I ponder upon the untold,
Stuck on the highway of uncertainty,
My blood may never rejoice in harmony.
So, I put on a teary eye,
Wishing for it all to leave with the tide.
I wrote this piece at the later hours of the night as I was consumed by the fear of losing my loved ones abroad to a ******* virus. It's been years since I've had such crippling paranoia..
The Dybbuk Mar 2020
an unholy spirit, and otherwise entirely omnipotent God
revealed itself to me there, hiding behind the eyes
of the lighthouse.
The spirit, for a glimpse of eternity, plunges the mind into an ice bath of adrenaline and fire.
I am reminded now of the name of fear,
and once Her name is spoken, nothing will ever be okay again.
I speak in tongues understood only by paranoiacs and vegetables,
once more made aware of a prophecy, and what it reveals about nothing.
I wrote this poem about an unusual experience I had while visiting another world.
pearl Mar 2020
oh, the wind
           it knocks now on
         my sliding glass door
     the same door that causes me to lay awake at night
         the knocking, i don't like it
                                     no, not one bit

is it the wind?
           or is he back?                               has he found me?
                                          is he going to hurt me again?

          i                  the
                 fear        
                                        wind
please stop please stop please don't come in
don't hurt me again
Juliet Candray Mar 2020
your absence is much more distracting
than your presence
and god, do i hate time difference.

i sleep around when you're awake
and i can't stop wondering
if you do the same.

thoughts, thoughts, thoughts irrational
anxi, anxious, anxiously waiting
ple, pleas, please don't leave.

desperation is the color that flushes my cheeks
oh how you must think of me...
my poor, poor mr. darcy.

then, i find myself ***** for ghosts
who will never appear.
o! how silly of me.
to ever even fathom being in your hades

so don't you ever fu-
you text me.
everything fizzles away
sitting.
patiently.
ever so
patiently. my

pavlovian.

response.
i love it
when you tighten
that leash on me

anxi, anxious, anxiously waiting
for another stimulus
what abitch move.
for you to deny me

that

ha!
and god, do i hate time difference.
Marco Feb 2020
I don't know myself anymore
I am so sleep-deprived
I don't remember what a dream is
I think I live in one

I am so alone
yet you keep me company
I am so sleep-deprived
you think and decide for me

I am not in control
we have ten fights a night
I went straight for your ear
there is no light, no light anymore

I am so sleep-deprived
everything's a copy of a copy of a copy
this is my life - your life?
I am so alone
yet you keep me company

I hit you as hard as I could.
This is about "Fight Club", both the novel as well as its movie adaptation.
Dia Feb 2020
Emptiness is what’s best.
Emptiness is what’s desired.
Happiness goes and sadness comes.
But the emptiness just stays there.

Isn’t the predictability of that better than anything else?
Why should I risk being happy when I know it will end?
And when it does, oh how it’ll hurt
So tell me, why would I set myself up?

They don’t know what happened.
They don’t know what’s in my mind.
And yet they have the audacity to try and fix me.
They try to make the decision that is supposed to be mine.

For a time I stayed true to the person inside.
Then I gave in and for the sake of the people outside, I lied.
I pretended to forget and made a bubble of content.  
I turned a blind eye and when my demons came I peacefully slept

Then the nightmares came back and so did the paranoia.
But no one could know because then they would ask.
All those memories have to go, but for a while, I’ll keep them close.
I’ll allow my mind to be caressed by my old sinful friends that I want so much to be dead.

Later, when I bury them all, I’ll line the exterior of my soul with protective poison.
And inside? Well, there'll be absolutely nothing.
I’ll become empty, just as desired.
Unfortunately, I know that’ll leave room for the ghosts.
There's a saying that states 'the gates of hell are locked from the inside'. Why do people choose to remain in terrifying pain only because they are familiar with it?
Bongani G-kay Feb 2020
Lover's Paranoia

Paranoia we have...
My heart asking questions...
That my mind can't answer....
What if....
what is she...
what if...
What is he...
Doing things will be doing...
With trust we vowed...
To us forever
Tying our souls together...

Donors we became...
Exchanging our hearts blue...
Promises became our internal rings
Made with bad memories that will be never remembered...
Our past is not past anymore.

Love...the 4 letter word
It means alot to us...
That it isn't a word.....
But our world
We live in...
And believe in...
My hopes
Hope so...
As i release my feelings...
I feel.
For the...
Kay bond.
💙
Lover's Paranoia
Ron Sanders Feb 2020
AROUND THE CORNER

You always knew it would happen again:
the ruby beams, the whispered code, the silhouettes, and then
a muffled crunch, a stifled cough, a soft and cryptic knock.

A latch that wasn’t fastened on a door that didn’t lock.

They’ll catch you, they’ll break you,
they’ll wipe you for sure.
They know your every step and stop:
where you are, where you’ll be,
exactly where you were.

What did you feel when your mind was removed;
was it hard, sharp and painful, or satiny smooth.
Do you weep in the dark, do you know in your heart
that they kept you intact when they tore you apart.
Does your lurching awareness obsess on your doom,
do those tiptoeing whispers leave prints in your room.

Keep moving, keep hiding, till death brings the end.
They’re just around the corner, they’re just around the bend.

Go leap out the window, go slip through the trees,
burn the leaves in your journal and bury your keys.
Haunt the alleys and rails as you sneak town to town;
one eye on your back, one eye on the ground.

So where was your head when they rewrote your brain.
Did you think you were God, a file, or insane.
Are you groping for clues in the patterns they weave—
is a single thing real in the world you perceive.

They’re coming. Keep running. Don’t let yourself fall behind.
They’re searching through your blackest dreams, escorted by the blind.
They’re watching from the shadows, their burning eyes aligned.
They’re waiting in the dark around the corner of your mind.


Okay. NOW COPY AND PASTE THE LINK BELOW TO READ HERO, A SPRAWLING, GROUNDBREAKING FANTASY FOR GROWNUPS IN TWO PARTS. (BUT YOU MUST CLICK ON THE PROVIDED LINK AT THE CONCLUSION OF PART ONE TO ACCESS PART TWO! THAT’S WHERE THIS WORK’S AMAZING RESOLUTION LIES. But please...intelligent, soulful readers only!)
NOW HERE’S THAT LINK:

https://allpoetry.com/poem/14922744-Hero---Part-One-by-Ron-Sanders

CLICK ON IT!

Copyright 2020 by Ron Sanders.

contact:
ronsandersartofprose@yahoo.com
Follow the link
simo Feb 2020
feeling unkempt
left me untethered, you caught the next cab
south of any air
ill keep close ithaca, warm me from the inside, heading anywhere
be too loud for me
perpetually alone
keep me far from anything ive not learned i need to know

and earthly ties they’ll ask for closure
while the bed pulls you closer
feeling unkempt
choked me breathless, i climbed an unsteady ladder, running out of air
ill be dumb for you, bliss
wrap me in illusion
evidently ill be consequently blind for you
perpetually forgone
any sense of known
tell me again, call me your fool
feeling unkempt

ill forget me again for you.
cant hurt me unless i let it.
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