Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Francie Lynch Oct 2023
Zombies are waddling toward their door.
Witches are cackling, black cats are scratching,
And the ghouls want brains and more.

But Brig and Ophelia aren’t scared yet,
They’re waiting inside,
Gobbling strange snacks while they hide.

It’s bugs they like to chew and gnaw;
And they love to eat their spiders raw,
Not fried with onions, like Granda;
Or served with broccoli, like Nana.

Not boiled with worms and creepy crawlers.
Ciaran eats those,
Not these crazed daughters.

Ophelia and Brig
Eat them raw,
Alive, not dead,
With wiggly legs and sharp jaws;
And wrapped up with mosquito heads
In white sticky spider webs.

They eat Black Widows soaked in goblin blood
And wicked witch’s poo;
Made from bats and rats and unschooled fools,
That witches eat to soften  stools.

They eat fat spiders
Floating in soup,
That slide and wiggle
Down their throat.

They eat them with their mouldy cheese,
Melted over wasps and bees.

The girls fork down spider stew,
They love the taste “Tres beaucoup.”

The gravy’s made from a mummy’s spit,
And sweat that drips from a ghoul’s armpit.

They like their spiders spread on bread,
A feast to feed the risen dead.

When their snack is finally done,
They’ll pick their teeth and scrape their tongues
For Daddy Long Legs they didn’t eat.
The long legs caught between their teeth.

They'll use those legs to weave a wreath,
To trick flies and bugs and lonely spiders
Into their hungry House of Horrors.
Wrote this for my twin grandaughters, Brig and Ophelia. Ciaran is my grandson. The girls hate spiders. Probably moreso now.
aar505n Dec 2021
I saw you
As you stared at me
Two deers caught in each other headlights
As brief as a flash, blinked, and you’d miss it

I am only reminded of my heaviness when you are there
Standing – Floating – Watching
As ghostly as any ghost, then
Gone – Vanished – Nothing
I am alone, again, cursed to remain here

I tried to follow in your footsteps
Untangling, unknotting, unravelling
Myself from a generation of debt and duty
These twisted roots of familiar obligations
How did you escape such a similar situation?

I wasn’t born light, like you.
I was born heavy, brother.
I will have to earn my lightness.

Sometimes on rainy days
when the weighty pain becomes unmanageable
I find myself slipping into the tangible delusion
Of ascribing meaning to everything

That maybe you think of me as much as I think of you
That you see my pain and want to help
But it’s just too much for you right now
When you’re ready, you’ll come back to me
You’ll come back.

Sometimes the little lies we tell ourselves
Can be enough to get us through this life

But not tonight.
'He ain't heavy, he's my brother'?
More like he *is* heavy and he ain't my brother
Francie Lynch Jul 2021
We're kinda small,
But we can be tall,
And play with the switches
On the walls.

We can run.
Ready. Set. Go.
You'll never catch us,
Don't you know.

We can reach anything
Out of reach.
We ride our bikes on our street.
We sometimes laugh until we ***.
We get our bruises riding scooters.
We're one on our teeter-totter.
We see-saw you.
Brigid and Ophelia, my twin granddaughters.
Raven Feels Jul 2021
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, the grass is not green:)


too much to bare
the polar twins resemblance in no fair

now the run I understand
still the twist of burning faces is what I can't

ran wind free
a second of nothing but me

the blonds in uniqueness stand under the red light
wait until the fear cripples and the big dog bites

the tea boiling somewhere for no one to drink
the ruined building leaves a pile to think

pupils dilate
thoughts shrink swallowing the bate

yet the crowd remains
I shower in public and fingerprints don't stain

a red rock star barks
stage shakes and throats are mic marked

nice dreams but crap
the plutonian not funny when children under your feet you have

                                                           ­                      -------ravenfeels
Devin Ortiz May 2021
Stone slabs descended down,
forming a staircase straight to hell.

A sea of screaming miasma suffocated
either side of the winding venture.

The light of the world above no longer
registered as darkness swallowed this place.

It seemed that whether forward or back,
this road was infinite.

Finally, after endless time, the monument
of this suffering came into view.

The blackest Obsidian rose beyond
comprehension and without feature.

Voices wailed and tension bloomed
in ominous agony.

And as it called out, a liquid wave of
familiarity poured in and around me.

The door, once unmarked, split down the seam
as I came within the final stretch.

Understanding drowned my mind,
as I pressed my palm against its surface.

Instantly, with a deafening boom,
it swung open on ethereal hinges.

Walking through, in bewildering clarity,
what was one became two.
Renie Simone Feb 2021
I kept staring;
She stared in return.
When I blinked, she blinked right back --
delayed, but twice as hard;
the same, but different.
Stood slouched —
almost hunched over.
She wore the same outfit as I,
but it didn't seem to fit her the same.
I tucked my shirt into my trousers,
she did the same. It looked better on me
than it did her.
Her hair was tangled.
I could tell because it looked just like
mine used to. Hers was more voluptuous than
mine ever was. I could almost hear her speaking,
like telepathy. But her voice sounded different,
deeper, more pronounced --
I couldn't put a finger on where I recognized it.
She didn't say anything in particular;
it was as if she didn't say words at all.
The way she mumbled sounded different --
almost foreign.
It was soothing, almost refreshing to hear,
because somehow I understood her.
Her face was pointed like a soft mountain top.
She looked almost...
disappointed when I noticed. Nose fairly flat —
Mine had a small bump. Her lips were uneven,
showing gums when she faked a smile;
I never opened my mouth to grin, it was unbecoming.
Her forehead was long and wide,
big enough for two brains --
I bet she's smarter than I am.
I noticed she was tired — I was tired, too.
My eyes are blue. Hers were grey,
similar to the sky when it rained —
almost like it was waiting for a rainbow.
I lifted my hand to touch hers,
she did the same right after. I could feel
the warmth of her hand on mine. It felt as if
she was a long-lost sister, someone
I hadn't seen in a long time.
An instant connection.
I don't remember ever meeting her, but
it was like I knew everything about her.
We let go at the same time.
She became a stranger again.
Previewed in The Voices Project
How do you know you've met your twin flame?

Well, in your darkest days and your darkest hours, they're the beacon of light that shines through the darkness that consumes you.

They're the hope that makes you keep living, when all you want to do is stop existing.

They're your cheerleader in your greatest moments.

The ones that make you feel loved, when you don't love yourself.

Twin flames give you a reason to stay alive and keep living.

At times when you're on your knees about to give up on your dreams, twin flames will always be there to pick up and mend your broken pieces.

They're the ones that understand and hear you when no one else wants to listen.

And makes your life just feel a little bit easier to deal with.

Twin flames are the ones that carry pieces of you no matter how far apart you are in distance, but would never make you forget that your existence has a purpose.

They're the ones that carry the burdens of loving every part of you, but would never hold anything against you.

Twin flames are your muses that inspire you just to be you, the ones that encourage you to show the world every part of you.

They're the ones that keep supporting you no matter how many mistakes you make in life.
And above all twin flames are souls, that you find are the missing parts of you that make you whole.

When you find your twin flame never let them go and return the blessings to them that they always share with you.
Bright  little star above
Stay with me forever
While I’m looking at you
in the night .
I know he is watching too!

Shell✨🐚
Many people all over the world are looking at the night sky. Enjoying and often thinking the same.
Augina Dec 2020
Two souls, one heart
Tied with red strings of bond
Resembling each other
Different mind, same body

One's fallen ill, the other's suffering
One's lost, the other remembered
That's what you call twins
Next page