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NK Apr 17
My heart is heavy, but my eyes seem to be dry1,
My brain is dead, but face seems to be alive,
This is all I think, when it comes to a business smile


With a wandering hand, I go up the stage, needless to say, all for wage
All the eyes point at me with such a blaze, it could shoot a hundred miles
Not to mention, I was nervous, but had to keep up, my business smile


All the hands, making such an applause which seems to haunt me right now,
I grew anxious, as the floral thorns2, point towards me
I feel awful for this heart of mine, but I had to show that business smile


“No. 15, when you’re ready.”, the words rang through my ears,
I placed my hand on the giant toy3, starting to embrace
One key, followed by the other, amusing the audience, as it occurs


My heart then filled with rage, my eyes filled with sparkle
Continue to play as long as it last, as far as it goes,
But who knows it more than I do, such fantasies occur, everywhere I come to my hairdo







1pretending to be okay;
2flowers[bouquet];
3grand piano
just a daydream about being a pianist. i named it "dark fantasy" because even if it is something that I fantasize, it still gives me chills
sky sprinkled
with cottonwood tufts
I watch them

float and fly
jump and dance

and the world
slows around me

the city sounds
seem to quiet

as if for
this moment

we are all
just as entranced

by the magical
miniature clouds

suspended in
time and space

holding our breath
so as not to disturb

these tiny,
gliding miracles

gracing us with
all the beauty

of a snowy winter day
in the middle of june
Hex Oct 2020
It's gnawing at his bones,
and clawing at his spine,
he knows he's not alone,
but now is not the time.

The woman behind sings,
broken voice bringing life like spring,
enlivening his actions,
but stressing her malefaction.

He'd been running for years,
or at least, that's how it felt.
Despite his eyes' red tears,
and skin starting to welt,
his drive had never reared,
but soon, to enervation, he knelt.

He fell into the leaves,
pain stung like blades unsheathed,
now too faint to run,
he peered up to the sun.

Then, the blue turned black,
he heard a familiar chime,
he knew, his lover was back.
She heaved her axe one time...

He still lies in the leaves,
no more cries or screams,
he speaks only silence now,
in a place that won't be found.
For an October project to write one project every day.
10/3 Theme: Fatigue
Maria Mitea Jul 2020
when there is nothing left to hold me
in this misty, dissipated life
i am secured by suspense
and its curiosity of
who, what, how
and why
Agatha Prideaux Apr 2020
Dried-out sweat, tired-out eyes
Placards coated in reds and blacks
Hair strands wet, vermillion skies
Whiteout sneakers underneath slacks

Chipping bricks adorned with dusk's glow
Soft thuds drown in bustling sidewalks
Concrete walls enrobed in guised woes
Like calls of Cincinnati clocks

Down the path's lead, an alley lies
Only known by a few handful
An easy shortcut for the wise
A definite route for the fool

Empty blocks pampered in ruins
Grow dahlia shrubs in feeble soil
Yet cherished by passing humans
As they perceive in gleeful toil

Click, clack. Tip, tap.
Echoing the narrow pathway
Click, clack. Tip, tap. Click, clack. Tip, tap.
Reverberating the walkway

Gush of summer coldness trickles
Playing with thin skin's hair to stand
Along evening's hazy drizzles
Until lips' beam's closed by a hand

Frozen. Motionless. Absolute.
Pulsating ears, vibrating fears
I, the troubled, straightaway mute
Searching for comfort in fresh tears

Frigid, sharp blade graze flesh through clothes
Algid, rough palms tightened their grip
With trembling mouth, whimpers in lows
Time's ticking, closer to the tip

"How dare you go against!?" he yells
His voice falling on deaf pavements
Alike encaging prison cells
Beneath wretched, worn-out basements

Writhed free from his desperate hold
Unclasped myself, away I go
Yet burly hands grab my shirt's fold
On my side, planting the grand blow

The night weakens, the knife deepens
Meeting downcast eyes as I stare
Remorseless, the demon wakens
No plans—this petty soul—to spare

Deafening shrieks still ring my ears
The masses' cries of unjustness
Voices crystal clear amid tears
Demur of headstrong robustness

Earlier's protest fresh in mind
Echoing as I reminisced
Realized the shrills' suit unfeigned
Are screams from my own throat's abyss

Away from the hustling streetscape
For anyone to hear my plea
In desperate crawls to escape
He lifts the wood in counts of three

Bashed head meet placards to shatter
Jagged splinters abrade my face
Entwined with rain's pitter-patter
To finish me off, just in case

Each and every breath nears to none
Boulevard of dreams come broken
The mist douse this limp body done
I take my last, eyes wide open

Dried-out life, tired-out cries
Pebbles coated in reds and blacks
****** palms rife, obsidian skies
Lone witnessed—mum dahlias on cracks.
Day 5 of #NaPoWriMo 2020. This woke me up all night, and definitely not regretting. Yes, I love dahlias.
Flowerwithabrain Dec 2019
Did you open it when I left?

Tear open the paper

Or are you still waiting

Counting the days

Are you anxious

What could be inside
Wait it out
Liz Jun 2019
The whispering fog settles over the meadow
A cry is heard from the sparrow
A dying bird that forgets the lie
Of the forest at bay who won’t comply.

No bird song is heard
Only the fog whispers
The death of the woman
That was forever blurred

None saw the damage,
None grasped the meaning,
They all stood silent
During the forbidden meeting

Consumed by the trees,
Burned by the fog,
She was dragged by the knees,
A mystery unsolved

What happened to her,
No one will understand,
The fog will forever stir
The conversations at hand.
Rene Arreola May 2019
I see you lurking.
Around every corner at the darkest hour.
Your aura of negative energy.
Along with an eerie silence in the air.

In the corner of my eye.
I can see you move swiftly in motion,
As if you wanted to be caught,
But were reluctant at the last moment.

Whispers can be heard at the dead of night.
Nothing but fear, confusion, and fright.
Somebody's watching me, I know.
I just hope they don’t have malevolent intentions.

I write this piece at the moment I see your swift movements.
Your presence freaking me out and occupying the atmosphere
With the alarming feeling that I am not alone.
The eerie feeling sends a shiver down my spine.

As my breaths become heavier with fear,
You seem to fade away.
The absence makes me wonder where’d you go?
I hope that you don’t return full of dismay.
This is one of the first poems I have written. One of my nightmares gave me the inspiration to write about the shadow that haunts me in my dreams
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