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  Mar 2016 Ugo Victor
Sin
Speak not of dark things under your bed
For little child they're all in your head
But don't tell mommy
Or she will see
The madness that grows from the seed

I'll hide until night when all asleep
Then I'll come out for you to keep
A plaything I am but not a toy
Just a special demon
For you to enjoy

Don't be frightened of my looks
Or try to hide behind a book
I'm here always as night draws in
Waiting for playtime to begin

So early to bed and close those eye's
Pretend to sleep and get your suprise
As knurled hands reach up for you
And drag you down to your dark tomb
  Feb 2016 Ugo Victor
Kati Davis
1 second:
my mind drags my languid body across the tundra of insanity
my eyes focused on a space
a blurry shape focused
something in between reality and the real world
2 seconds:
roles of films show screenplays flickering across my mind, lighting up possibilities of what could go wrong
One goes by, and the film starts again running over and over
as the films play, I slowly drown in a sea of attacks
1,000 feet, my world spins
2,000 feet, my world fades
3,000 feet, my world becomes red, blocking the rest of the colors of the world
preventing the peace of the world into sight
4,000 feet, my soul mending into an entity with no right of way
it drifts upwards as I drift away
3 seconds:
my mind becomes the phantom
black, hollow, clustered, dreadful, worrisome
following my hollow body, swarming with words
creeping up behind me, people pass in blurs
their energy sweeps me up, fills me, empties me, making me feel even more alone
4 seconds:
do I cry, show the world the Prince of Darkness that clings onto my body
pulling strands of my hair, slowing my world to where I stare at myself and see a mess
see the tearing across skin, my face, only my red eyes can see, when they see my reflection
it’s a happy girl, who is never too sad, but the red can see through the mask that is always glued on
or should I **** it up and keep the beast swimming through my brain
prying my mouth open, keep it inside and let it eat me alive
5 seconds:
my heart, feeling four times as heavier as it did 6 seconds before
telling me *you’re okay, it will pass, the storms almost over, the friend always there to help the in pain

even when the expression shows different
the brain, feeling four times heavier as it did 6 seconds before
telling me you’re not okay, nobody cares, see they just passed you, why would someone care?
The common enemy, the one who's always there to tear you down even when the sun shines bright
6 seconds:
to keep the phantom from attacking, breathe steadily, never miss a beat
which would you chose to believe?
The phantom, the common enemy, the one who controls your thoughts
or the friend, there to keep you running through it all?
The choice seems easy, but sometimes
the choice isn’t yours to make
anxiety attacks, this is what happens to me.
I pray that today shall be your very best day of all.
That you shall see the little things for what they are.
The things that reveal Christ to each of us daily here.
For to be Loved, by those that you hold so precious to you.
To have an warm breeze come up from behind you.
To have someone buy you coffee or something else.
For to finally be shown the biggest blessing of all here.
To be use to draw others to our Living Savior and God.
For we were put on this earth to bless others not ourselves.
  Feb 2016 Ugo Victor
r
I took a broom to seven generations
of moths in the spare bedroom closet
when I saw the red wool sweater in a box
with crossed white cloth baseball bats
sewn on the back and a # 1 patch smack
dab on the heart; the window to my past
shattered like glass on a long ago Saturday.
For Noah.
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