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Cc Feb 2020
fire
red hot
pain
fire
on my skin
pain
once again
Julia B Shaw Feb 2020
Nightmares are dreadful things
They creep into subconscious minds
And tear at sanity's fragile strings
Turning our thoughts to things unkind

I was a teacher of children quite small
And loved the years I spent with them
But soon after leaving  teaching I recall
My nightmares started to brim

The sweet ones eyes began to glow
Within my fevered brain so fraught
Red demon light seemed to flow
From every eye that I had taught

Then even stranger thoughts assailed
As each child grew in size
It seemed to me that their fingernails
From my body sought a prize

They gouged my eyes and ripped my skin
I could not seem to escape
Although I tried to stop the din
Alas it was too late

Another time a stranger dream
Came to me late one night
It was worse than any nightmare had seemed
It caused me a sinister fright

I was in my old frame school
Twenty-five students joined me there
But one small boy had broken a rule
And slipped a gun in on a dare

We teachers never checked the hooks
Where all the schoolbags were sorted
We thought them filled with pencils and books
No weapons had ever been reported

But in this dream he took us all hostage
Then brandished the gun about
He placed in front of us a blockage
So no one could get out

With all my heart I entreated him
To let one small child go
It seemed that even the room went dim
As he looked at us row by row

At last, he motioned with hands spread
That I should walk one child
Out the door and down the hall
Outs where children and parents reconciled

So one by one I went with each
Dear student held that day
Until they all had safely reached
And end to their great dismay

Then S.W.A.T. moved right in sync
And whisked that  boy away
I never knew what to think
Because suddenly I was awake

I jumped up from my bed undone
And ran frightened with a scream
I grabbed a phone to cal 911
Before I realized it was only a dream

Nightmares can be ever so real
They'll make you do strange eerie things
Nightmares always  my dreams seem to steal
I wish they would all take wings
Written after a dream that I had about a boy bringing a gun to first grade.
Shadow Feb 2020
Shifting shades that lack precision,
eye evading, vaporous vision,
fleeting flickers underexpose
ghostly glimpses that discompose.

Shadows speak in trembling tones,
mumbled murmurs, cackling crones,
bated breath while overcoming
stifled screams but not succumbing.

Befrozen blood stills hammering heart,
senses separate, perceptions part,
lost lucidity brings indecision
face or flee this spectrovision.

Shuddering skin turns pearlest pale,
hairs horripilate, portents prevail,
cold creeps craze a mind affrighted
spooky spectres come uninvited
Jack Boucher Feb 2020
I hate how easy it would be
Because I love you so much
Your soft fur, so nice to pet
My pet, my friend.

So when you lie on my stomach
Sometimes, if my mind is murky that day,
I think about how easy it would be
With my giant hands and your delicate body
And your whiskers would twitch no more

And I hate that
I loathe that thought and fact
I don’t want to, obviously;
I’m no Michael Myers
It’s the same with my phone when I stand in front of a lake
Or when I could tear a final exam in two
I know I could

I hate that I can
It shouldn’t be so easy
And I don’t even think deeply when it occurs
But maybe knowing we could
Is the reason none of us do
Jack Torrance Feb 2020
I close the door,
but it swings right back.
The latch has been broken,
and shot full of cracks.

I try to fix it,
try to take it all back,
but then it opens on darkness,
and I’m consumed by the black.

I want to step through,
to see if it’s still the same,
because it beckons to me,
softly calling my name.

That’s when I slam it,
and try to hold the **** still,
as something tries to turn it,
and break through my will.

That’s when my fingers,
grow sweaty and numb,
and I can feel the pressure increasing,
and I start to succumb.

The **** starts to turn,
and I start to lose my grip,
and then I stop fighting,
and my fingers slip.

I step away,
as the latch softly clicks,
and the dark whisps escape,
growing feelers to lick.

Then I am lost,
and stepping through the door,
hoping that it won’t shut,
but not caring anymore.

I’m bathing in nothing,
and I feel the memories cut,
as somewhere off in the distance,
I hear a door slam shut.
Annie Jan 2020
Constantly staring at me
From my half open bedroom door

Intoxicating my brain
Says, it’ll stay, evermore

A ghost, it’s a lost soul
More weak, less scary

Watching me as I grow
All old and weary

My invariable company
Infiltrating my ‘lonely’

Says it won’t harm
Only here to watch me as I sleep

It holds me not to let go
Not to hurt, but to caress

When all the people leave
And I crave the bitter sweetness
Bhill Jan 2020
Where is the safe zone
I heard life can be scary
Don't try it alone

Brian Hill - 2020 # 7
Find your safe room...
دema flutter Jan 2020
falling for someone again
is scarier than the first fall,
because you know
how much love
your heart can carry
and how much sorrow
love can carry
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