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"transfers" poems
Thinking hard about you I got on the bus and paid 30 cents car fare and asked the driver for two transfers before discovering that I was alone.
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14.8k
30 Cents, Two Transfers, Love
Somehow your heart enzymes inveigled a way into my system I surmise it was your energising tongue which smuggled them in my pseudoanaphylactic longing to snuggle in vein against your protein its aim a happy interaction tugged by frenzied polypeptide chains when your petite triglycerides coil avidly around my pH changes hydrolysis replenishes steroids to stop any pleasure level plunge so that functional-group transfers may intervene at all active sites supervising where coenzymes await love's coursing stem cell sights that photosynthesise my eyes to sensitise to you despite the dark dancing in all my living cells with infectious smiles an epidemic when your DNA can't polymerase enough of the audacious lipids pleasing as they kiss the density away of fatty acids on soft lips that release protease inhibitors in ways not too selective so our hearts find their metabolic pathway audaciously live and offer themselves completely to a frolic in love reactive
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Jul 28, 2014
Jul 28, 2014 at 12:06 PM UTC
Love's Enzymes Are Carried On A Polypeptide
Spines curve as sweetly as drops from a honeysuckle Notes in a melody fill the void spaces Gentle rushes stir like the swish of rustling leaves Flushed as red as the cherry who’s stem is knotted Time stolen from the hands of a frozen clock- Still like snow fallen from a winter shower Senses fully awaken to chase alluring aromas   Repetitive jolts of candied sin trickle throughout the body Electric flow in the veins sparks an extended invitation Contagious appetite will mirror aches of desire Surges of shock in the body join the mind and soul Accelerating spikes in heart rate kiss private secrets Boundless longing branded to one another Yearning indulged by limitless exchanges of energy- Transfers immune from harm Pressure from oneness loosens the tremble in pleading breaths Hands close around each hip to clench their hollows Credible fingers drenched in admiration coat mingled skin One is composed by the gravitation of two Defying moonlight to surrender at an immeasurable ****** Reaching for the highest point to let go Sharing traces of untamed wind with soaring wings Collecting innocence altered by ecstasy Choosing vulnerability to expose what cannot be said Fantasies traded through the rhythm of touch
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Oct 28, 2018
Oct 28, 2018 at 10:21 AM UTC
I wake your senses to remind you that you wake mine
*I go to bed with the thought of you under my pillow and it directly transfers to my dreams.* F.Z.N
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Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 11:58 AM UTC
Pillow
In our first kiss, Surrounded by darkness, Except the light in your eyes I must have tasted a trace Of a lotus flower upon your lips That flower which takes all thoughts of home And transfers them to the place Tainted by the bloom – Since that first timid kiss, Leading to so many others I cannot think of a place I would rather be Than in your arms To taste that kiss Sweetened by the lotus Like tea by a drop of honey Seemingly, just for me.
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Feb 23, 2013
Feb 23, 2013 at 10:20 PM UTC
Lotus
Of simple plastic made with screws and with transfers. The fads of old youth banished high upon the shelf now a plaything for the dust.
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Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 9:00 PM UTC
Old Toy
My life is sometimes only that green that everybody see's during the day, and at night when you awake with your window open wide and perceive the fresh scent of a brand new beginning, with the joy it transfers to us all, conveyed within the air we breath, that comes only in nature we see.
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Jun 21, 2018
Jun 21, 2018 at 6:50 PM UTC
Everybody's world
the feeling of unwanted fingertips tends to wash over my skin in the same manner that the cold washed over yours but heat transfers, or lack-there-of. it was in this way that i became sick, or maybe the smoke i've filled my lungs with had finally done me in. i drank cough syrup either way. i guess i was unaware at the time, but the smell of cherries was what did me in. cherries, and i felt your hands once again cherries, and my breathing nearly stopped all at once cherries, and my hands began to tremble so violently that i dropped the bottle. cherries, as i leaned over the toilet throwing up sticky sweet memories cherries, as i drew further and further into myself and, subsequently, closer into your arms cherries, as my eyes dried from the excessive tears and i could no longer manage any noise. cherries, as your cold transferred into me and your hands clenched around my wrists cherries, as the entire weight of your body was laid on top of mine cherries, and i couldn't move, i couldn't scream, i couldn't see cherries, as your voice echoed in my mind, preventing me any relief from this nightmare, cherries. no, not even the simplest of coughs could find relief under such strain. because my cough syrup smelled like your red slushee vape juice, i froze. and i couldn't pick myself up again i couldn't front the storm, i couldn't slip you into my pocket i couldn't put you on the back burner. i couldn't erase you from my mind no matter how many times i tried i couldn't wipe you off of my skin no matter how hard i scrubbed i couldn't close my eyes without hearing your voice telling me to stay still i cant stop smelling your ******* red slushee vape juice because the scent accompanies every panic attack and every breakdown. and i sure as hell couldn't stop the blood from flowing once it had started. the stress that made it hard to breathe had gotten to you, inside of me and there was so much blood. the doctor said it was normal for it to be about the same consistency as cherry cough syrup. i can't drink it anymore.
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Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 6:16 PM UTC
red slushee vape juice
the feeling of unwanted fingertips tends to wash over my skin in the same manner that the cold washed over yours but heat transfers, or lack-there-of. it was in this way that i became sick, or maybe the smoke i've filled my lungs with had finally done me in. i drank cough syrup either way. i guess i was unaware at the time, but the smell of cherries was what did me in. cherries, and i felt your hands once again cherries, and my breathing nearly stopped all at once cherries, and my hands began to tremble so violently that i dropped the bottle. cherries, as i leaned over the toilet throwing up sticky sweet memories cherries, as i drew further and further into myself and, subsequently, closer into your arms cherries, as my eyes dried from the excessive tears and i could no longer manage any noise. cherries, as your cold transferred into me and your hands clenched around my wrists cherries, as the entire weight of your body was laid on top of mine cherries, and i couldn't move, i couldn't scream, i couldn't see cherries, as your voice echoed in my mind, preventing me any relief from this nightmare, cherries. no, not even the simplest of coughs could find relief under such strain. because my cough syrup smelled like your red slushee vape juice, i froze. and i couldn't pick myself up again i couldn't front the storm, i couldn't slip you into my pocket i couldn't put you on the back burner. i couldn't erase you from my mind no matter how many times i tried i couldn't wipe you off of my skin no matter how hard i scrubbed i couldn't close my eyes without hearing your voice telling me to stay still i cant stop smelling your ******* red slushee vape juice because the scent accompanies every panic attack and every breakdown. and i sure as hell couldn't stop the blood from flowing once it had started. the stress that made it hard to breathe had gotten to you, inside of me and there was so much blood. the doctor said it was normal for it to be about the same consistency as cherry cough syrup. i can't drink it anymore.
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I feel it in the tenderness in your expression, when you call me baby over the phone. I feel the charm of your masculinity. Something deep inside of you transfers esoterically inside my soul. I want you to get deeper into our merger. I want to be your dream come true. I want to cradle myself next to you; a blanket on the floor, a pillow on the bed, a tent in a back field in the middle of the night. it doesn’t matter where we are, as long as I lay next to my man. I will be happy, I will be whole. I like it when you call me baby, I am fully aware that I am yours. I am dedicated to my African King, and I know that you are devoted to me. When you call me baby, I know you mean it. You arouse a fireside of warmth inside my wet harbor, and when you call me baby, you make me feel like Black Beauty! I feel the sensations of your heartbeat, jiving to music that only we can hear.. You make me melt like heat to ice, when you touch my lips, and kiss me goodnight. I feel exclusively special when you call me your Lady! I can’t help but hold a torch for you. I like it when you call me baby, it makes me feel rather profound for you. When you call me baby over the phone, I want to add your sentiment as my preferred ringtone.
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Jan 29, 2021
Jan 29, 2021 at 10:52 PM UTC
I Like It When You Call Me Baby
Headstrong, yet bitten by the snake of narcotic charm... As the venom flows, your dreams slowly begin to die The goals, the passions, the visions begin to change The personalty of the passionate man turns to selfishness The confidence turns to self pity from the demon within What was, what is and what will be, turns to nothing The morals turn to lies, the caring turns to taking This narcotic charm transfers itself to a necrotic death Your family, your friends, your love, have slowly given up You've hit rock bottom and still look for the snake's charm It has been your pet for so long and you can't let it go Your only have two choices, to slither in it's hole and die The second is the most important decision of your life
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Mar 13, 2015
Mar 13, 2015 at 4:48 PM UTC
Narcotic Charm
Who is that yet that does not ask the question? What creates the soul within, what makes us yearn, What transfers through without a single mention Yet incessantly incites our heart to burn? A willowy waver of the neck and head, A vibration that travels the length of me, And a mind enlightened by the words you said; Yet I feel that your brilliance, you're blind to see. So, I hope, only that I'm allowed to say All that my voice can find the courage to speak. I'll sit and dream about my life for today-- But tomorrow a new beginning I seek. A key to find the piece to complete your whole: A positive introspection of your soul.
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Jul 30, 2012
Jul 30, 2012 at 8:51 PM UTC
Calming Noise.
Pixelated bitmap e-mares Digitized be mementos cached Her 8 bit vocal vintage freeware Transfers recurrent electric draughts The bitrate of virtual seduction Intrusively hacks my bones Taste be my lips of data eruption Elicited from her tone Physique a stimulating software Upon my Ethernet she crafts sparks A gem society deemed quite rare Though she possessed a vibrant bark Her bandwith I yearned to fiddle 'Twas encrypted with die-hard lust She moans in esoteric riddles Keen I decode them whilst I ****** Pizazz eclipsing our veins A billion megabytes colliding Satiated we crash free of rein Unforeseen servers uniting © 2012 (All rights reserved) This poem is featured in the poetry collection “Technicolor” as written by Glenn McCrary The collection is currently available in paperback and hardcover editions for purchase on Lulu.com .
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Feb 25, 2012
Feb 25, 2012 at 4:09 PM UTC
Digital Cinderella
Wandering, passion full of reality deep, moving in motion, forgetting, just motions expression, time breathes out every cell, though someone says evil chains infect you from end to main, telling you insane, eyes wander through the moment, your life is breathing, skin sometimes grows and gets older Knives on the table clatter while people force and dishone you Breathing life like wind, body transfers movement, light shining out your actions, though fading and disolving, touches the future, in a divine moment more real than time, nothing else is seen nothing else is life
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May 9, 2016
May 9, 2016 at 7:30 AM UTC
Poem about change
Opposites attract. An object with a negative charge will attract an object with a positive charge– Until they touch. This collision transfers electrons from one object to the other– Distributing appropriately. The objects are now equally charged– And repel each other. Was that our problem? We became too close? Collided too hard? Does this explain why our spark fizzled out? Why this attraction became repulsion? Did my desire for intimacy lead to our demise? Did I miscalculate the consequences of our contact? Was our embrace the end?
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Jan 4, 2017
Jan 4, 2017 at 12:02 AM UTC
Are Electrons to Blame?
"You are not alone. There is beauty in sadness. Many run from it or treat it as something that shouldn't be. We need to feel sadness to feel joy. Your sadness is cold. Can it be made to feel warm?” can it? I am starting to think yes realizing everything you said carries its own weight in truth without sadness I wouldn't know joy duality is in every part of this universe from the ever shifting ocean in my soul to the massive star we named the sun and she shines because of duality massive amounts of energy bursting pushing to get out the weight of her being crushing pushing down with equal force the suns core fuses transfers makes something else out of what is inside her her hydrogen becoming helium the constant change creating something almost stable almost predictable one day there will be nothing left inside of her core to fuse one day I will have nothing left inside of my soul to write when there is no more hydrogen left no more passion left she will collapse under the weight of her existence the pressure of this alone causes more change heavier elements heavier thoughts she will swell growing larger darker intrusive making us feel her being leaving us with no where to go but to accept and to be engulfed after there is nothing left she will collapse from her giant self overbearing us and our neighbors becoming a fragment of who she used to be rotating still the passion is gone her life source is gone the light lingers until she has nothing left her light burns out and until time stops she will stay a brown quiet dwarf all that's left are her memories of the life she gave to us I hope when it is my time when my fuel has become heavy and when I engulf those around me forcing my deadly heat onto my planets that I won't collapse into a smaller star into a lesser version of me i want to be big enough that I explode tearing through what's left with the beams of energy I've stuffed inside of me let my supernova carry the dust of the planet you were let me push you elsewhere farther let me bring new life energy hope when I explode and then let me eat anything that gets too close you will never leave you are mine
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Feb 18, 2016
Feb 18, 2016 at 9:16 AM UTC
LET MY SADNESS FEEL THE HEAT OF A RED GIANT. LET ME BECOME A STAR. LET ME EAT YOU.
"You are not alone. There is beauty in sadness. Many run from it or treat it as something that shouldn't be. We need to feel sadness to feel joy. Your sadness is cold. Can it be made to feel warm?” can it? I am starting to think yes realizing everything you said carries its own weight in truth without sadness I wouldn't know joy duality is in every part of this universe from the ever shifting ocean in my soul to the massive star we named the sun and she shines because of duality massive amounts of energy bursting pushing to get out the weight of her being crushing pushing down with equal force the suns core fuses transfers makes something else out of what is inside her her hydrogen becoming helium the constant change creating something almost stable almost predictable one day there will be nothing left inside of her core to fuse one day I will have nothing left inside of my soul to write when there is no more hydrogen left no more passion left she will collapse under the weight of her existence the pressure of this alone causes more change heavier elements heavier thoughts she will swell growing larger darker intrusive making us feel her being leaving us with no where to go but to accept and to be engulfed after there is nothing left she will collapse from her giant self overbearing us and our neighbors becoming a fragment of who she used to be rotating still the passion is gone her life source is gone the light lingers until she has nothing left her light burns out and until time stops she will stay a brown quiet dwarf all that's left are her memories of the life she gave to us I hope when it is my time when my fuel has become heavy and when I engulf those around me forcing my deadly heat onto my planets that I won't collapse into a smaller star into a lesser version of me i want to be big enough that I explode tearing through what's left with the beams of energy I've stuffed inside of me let my supernova carry the dust of the planet you were let me push you elsewhere farther let me bring new life energy hope when I explode and then let me eat anything that gets too close you will never leave you are mine
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165
I can’t wait for stressful planning and credit charges for emptied drawers and stacked luggage by the door I can’t wait for communication hardships and endless researching for early exhausted mornings and lethargic confusion I can’t wait for belonging searches and metal detectors double checking my facts and momentary panic that i messed up ..... ... I can’t wait for airplane seats and window views long tiring flights and transfers in unknown territory I can’t wait for screeching plane tires and strange new air feet planted on foreign ground doe-eyed awed and misspoken anxiety I can’t wait for looks directed at me cautious wonder of the one who’s not native meeting new people stumbling over rehearsed words i don’t know if i’m saying it right I can’t wait for new apartment doors and an unknown bed thriving in the heart of the place i wished to see for several years now where my dreams took root and blossomed erratically I can’t wait for late night calls to family i miss you from little sisters backwards sleeping schedules but finding my way just fine I can’t wait for all of this it couldn’t come any sooner But most of all I can’t wait to say I finally made it
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Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 10:44 PM UTC
I Can’t Wait..
lets be two naked self conscience individuals and sit in a half full half empty bathtub we'll fill it with freezing water that evaporates when our skin makes contact we are magnetic and static and our clothless skin transfers heat through osmosis our necks are sweating and beading and drips down the stunted hour glass love handles filled with sand and that sweat is freezing but evaporates down my body ripples in the water we have not moved in hours
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Mar 21, 2013
Mar 21, 2013 at 7:16 AM UTC
bathtub
My head is against the hard plastic, my hair softening the uncomfortable edge I catch a sliver of the snowstorm when I look out, blocked by his silhouette My hands place themselves on his waist, preparing for the worst Lips on lips feeling the unequal pressure and my heart feels it's cursed My chest feels strange as he transfers his kisses and finds my hands I feel him pressing against me and I sink myself into the stained fabric as far away as I can My body tenses and my mind tells it to stop but it doesn't understand His movements are choppy as he tries to explore the new terrain Does he know this terrain is 17 years young Because the ground can tell the excavator is at least 21 Teeth collide with my lips and I cringe at the lack of skills for a man My eyes drift to the snow outside the warm well used minivan Wishing how badly I could be a snowflake on the other side of the glass I pull my sweater up And let him take off my bra clasp by clasp But I don't want him I don't want this to last
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Jan 25, 2019
Jan 25, 2019 at 11:43 PM UTC
Terrain
My maker named me Universe and now I make you read this verse. Subtle transfers will be missed. The train has already left the station; it left you and me behind as well. You will never be able to believe that your opinion has also been left behind and will be left behind again, but it’s true, and always was. At the time, you are busy yelling “help” in a crowded theater. Three individuals are injured in the rush to your aid. That’s will be on you, not me. Let’s not cut hairs here; maybe you should have yelled “fire” instead. Then, at least, you’d know in advance you were buying the bath water and could throw it wherever you **** well wanted to. Baby or no baby, a duck is a duck. Truth is what you want, capitalized beneath this thin distraction which pitters off... At first you denied it, but then again you are always ignorant of its honest weight at first. Patience lent perspective to our narrow mind, allowing it to, eventually, glimpse us, narrowly, just out of sight of one another. Humility, begging pardon, but who needs such company?  Me? I will just keep my head down, and quietly push whatever buttons I can. These, for instance, are both mine and yours. One can share, but we've never needed to. There is no reason, either. Never try to believe a fallacy; that would be insanity. Quietly, like thieves, stealing the point, we'll slip into our ritual I've been here before. This is the beginning. You’ll likely end up here again as well. What is happening has always felt like déjà vu. While you’ve been talking about yourself I’ve lost my train of thought. I assume I will never find it.
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Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 2:18 AM UTC
Tense Universe
My maker named me Universe and now I make you read this verse. Subtle transfers will be missed. The train has already left the station; it left you and me behind as well. You will never be able to believe that your opinion has also been left behind and will be left behind again, but it’s true, and always was. At the time, you are busy yelling “help” in a crowded theater. Three individuals are injured in the rush to your aid. That’s will be on you, not me. Let’s not cut hairs here; maybe you should have yelled “fire” instead. Then, at least, you’d know in advance you were buying the bath water and could throw it wherever you **** well wanted to. Baby or no baby, a duck is a duck. Truth is what you want, capitalized beneath this thin distraction which pitters off... At first you denied it, but then again you are always ignorant of its honest weight at first. Patience lent perspective to our narrow mind, allowing it to, eventually, glimpse us, narrowly, just out of sight of one another. Humility, begging pardon, but who needs such company?  Me? I will just keep my head down, and quietly push whatever buttons I can. These, for instance, are both mine and yours. One can share, but we've never needed to. There is no reason, either. Never try to believe a fallacy; that would be insanity. Quietly, like thieves, stealing the point, we'll slip into our ritual I've been here before. This is the beginning. You’ll likely end up here again as well. What is happening has always felt like déjà vu. While you’ve been talking about yourself I’ve lost my train of thought. I assume I will never find it.
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Astilleros De Veracruz Independence street. ~~~~~~~ The summer sun went down on our love long ago But in my heart I feel the same old after glow A love so beautiful in every way we let it slip away I was too young to understand to ever know and comprehend. You my Adam and me your Eve owned our treasure, buried in paradise by a stream; all lost upon a hillside stump. where the road bent in. There I've read between the lines your love was written not in any shifting sand but in heart. The Earth's sand doons account for the measure of my sorrow for our loss. Recovering that memory chip saved my life averting neverending pain an upside down cross. A love so beautiful a love so free A love for you and me And when I think of you I fall in love still again as every good man is taken. A love so beautiful in every way. Your love now transfers to my new love finding me adrift in that dream. A love so beautiful it is written In poem, and in song. Seen in movies, operas and lullaby's to heal hearts strong. Stripping the mind of misery and pain as lost is found. A love so beautiful it's read sparkling as diamonds in shifting sands. A love so beautiful kept secret in our cave of wonders for lovers writing daily to one another where magic and true love abounds. A kind of love to everlast. ~~~~~~ By: Karijinbba Approved by Rdd and Michael Bolton in Hollyeood.
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Aug 19, 2021
Aug 19, 2021 at 9:09 PM UTC
The Atlantic mystery.
As heat transfers You're body to body And skin to skin Cold hard hearts Another night Another girl The way you live. U n a t t a c h e d The love without love You find unfulfilling fulfillment.
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Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 11:47 PM UTC
Skin to skin
He stands solidly still, a malformation Rush hour commuters about him whirl Arrival or departure in subway station? Intrans intelligence, subconscious swirl Isolated, his mind in most violent hurl Facing whole extent of impertinent data Comatose commuter suffers info slow-mode Wife, boss, kids all part in sub-matter Too much for one brain to devour, decode Cell phones, microchips, transistor’s overload Components lack tactile connection Wavelengths of broadcasts, meltdown occurs Keeping too connected, causing mind ejection No app for that on tablet to refer Now stuck in commuter rut with no transfers
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Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 11:51 PM UTC
Comatose Commuter
Heart ****** to death “Do you need the paramedics?” Life and Death is three quick breaths And 15 pumps Or was it 11, or 22? Where are they? One deep rale Where are they? "Anung nung yari qui daddy?" Eyes rolled up to GodDid you see a light? Fatal heart won’t live through night, Weekend, two weeks, re-evaluate “Dey dun’t know daddy.  He’s a fighter.” Alone in CCU committed act of faith with laid hands on experience. Comatose body wholly heaving with Holy contact Then silence, stillness Transfers, therapy, rehabilitation Sent home by HMO Came home first night to check on you: Blotted brow and utterance “Just try to go to sleep” Came home one day to check on us Then entered Jacob’s sleep Headstone scarred by lawnmowers Grass envelopes me Gives me hug…you never did Yet tears are all I see Heart knows utterance by heart “Fin, take care of mama.” Heart de-virged through pain and loss Salamat po Pops
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Mar 1, 2010
Mar 1, 2010 at 2:19 PM UTC
Pop's Poem
The candle that flickers in the distance The night-light that illuminates the room Still doesn’t protect me from the monster That isn’t really there He lives in the darkest corner of my room And waits until I am asleep To lurk into the faint light And show his faceless face As I awake from my slumber He puts a trace on my soul So that he can safely approach My defenseless body I lie their as still as a statue I try hard to let out a scream And when nothing comes out He stands over top of me He knows he is winning When he stares into my petrified eyes But when I look back at him I wonder if he is trying to make me stronger He takes his nonexistent hands And places them onto my chest And with increasing pressure He squeezes the breath out of my body I gather all the strength I have Trying to force a movement And just when I’ve given up I feel my toes wiggle Relief rushes through my body like a drug And finally the movement transfers From my toes to my legs From my legs to my entire body I break free from his despicable clutch And I let out an ear piercing scream I spring out from under the covers In hopes that I catch my terrorist I hear the stomps of my parents Coming from the hallway They enter my room Before I can tell them “no” And the hall light produces Just enough light To make my demon Disappear I hang my head in defeat My parents make sure that I am okay And after they tuck me in I lie in bed And wait for him to visit again.
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Dec 30, 2019
Dec 30, 2019 at 9:48 PM UTC
My Demon