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№ 1135314


Fear is a funny thing
Curled up in my gut
Like it lives there
Like a knife
It traces its claws along my spin
Reaching up, up, up
Brushing past my lungs
To lock its long talons
Around my frantic, fluttering heart

Fear is a funny thing
Sneaking up on me
Without being provoked
Like a trap
Snaking its way between my ribs
Pulling tighter, tighter, tighter
Till i'm gasping for breath
On my knees in the dust
Eyes clouded by panic and darkness

Fear is a funny thing
Purposeless and naive
Throwing useless tantrums
Like a child
Beating against my shoulder blades
I feel it pulsing, pulsing, pulsing
Rhythmic and relentless
Picking my seams apart and
Unraveling me from the inside

H. f. m.

Author: Hannah Marriott
Date: 03/09/2019

№ 1378498

In The Beginning

In the beginning was the three-pointed star,
One smile of light across the empty face,
One bough of bone across the rooting air,
The substance forked that marrowed the first sun,
And, burning ciphers on the round of space,
Heaven and hell mixed as they spun.

In the beginning was the pale signature,
Three-syllabled and starry as the smile,
And after came the imprints on the water,
Stamp of the minted face upon the moon;
The blood that touched the crosstree and the grail
Touched the first cloud and left a sign.

In the beginning was the mounting fire
That set alight the weathers from a spark,
A three-eyed, red-eyed spark, blunt as a flower,
Life rose and spouted from the rolling seas,
Burst in the roots, pumped from the earth and rock
The secret oils that drive the grass.

In the beginning was the word, the word
That from the solid bases of the light
Abstracted all the letters of the void;
And from the cloudy bases of the breath
The word flowed up, translating to the heart
First characters of birth and death.

In the beginning was the secret brain.
The brain was celled and soldered in the thought
Before the pitch was forking to a sun;
Before the veins were shaking in their sieve,
Blood shot and scattered to the winds of light
The ribbed original of love.

Author: Dylan Thomas
Date: 09/03/2020

№ 1415852

Never truly back.

Wind howling in my ears,
Sand slicing, biting, through my skin,
The faces plaguing my dreams of fear.
Their mouths all in a maniacal grin.

Pain flashing; arm burning;
Tumbling through the air.
An arm falling in my lap,
It's not mine but his.

My friend.
My driver.
The back I promised to watch.
The family man I know him to be.

No dont look at me that way!
Stop... please...
It's not my fault I survived.
It's not my fault you died.

No dont leave... please...
You're all I have left,
You're my last memory of him.
Stay... please...

The cracking of barrels,
Whizzing of bullets,
I'm sorry I have to go.
My other brothers need me.

You're eyes are already dead,
You're blood has run cold.
But they aren't gone yet,
Their blood is still warm.

A shot runs through my shoulder,
Strange voices coming from everywhere,
One saying to get back,
Another saying it's happening again...

What's happening?
What do you mean again?
Head hurting, splitting, painful.
Everything around me is fading...

No dont leave... please...
This is all I have left of them...
My friends who fell,
My brothers by creed not blood.

White lights, white clothe.
Strange voices speaking strange words.
A man in blue and white,
Red spatters of blood on his shirt.

It makes sense,
For now I see,
I was rescued.
One out of four.

I'm alive...
I survived...
It should've been them.
Why couldn't it have been them.

Author: Sorin L Javerin
Date: 23/04/2020

№ 1415853


Full of life and emotion
I am like an ocean
With rocks in my depths
And the occasional hidden wrecks

I am calm in the sun
Relaxed and full of fun
But I am cold in the rain
When the water takes my brain

When I capsize from my boat
Through the clouds I like to float
Seeking dreams like we all do
Not just for me but also for you

Sometimes sulky a childlike disposition
Means my growing up is still in transition
But I do believe in good
Which I think we all should

I’m balanced but complex as you see
But that’s my vessel my soul my me

Author: Andrew James Shepherd
Date: 12/06/2020

№ 1415854

A cat and his cub

This, a story
Of love and endurance
A survival match
Among the wilderness
From a house displaced
Lived a cat
Out of place,
In this cruel world.
He changed his hues
Trying to fit in
This troubled cat,
Only to seek a soul
Much like its own.
He loitered about
Day and night long
Picked prey by hounds
Clean, from all use,
By these bunch of hyenas
That saw the cat
As everything
But their own.
Trying to escape
With each tick of the clock
From an inescapable fate
Which led him
To his cub.
As their eyes met,
Their souls intertwined,
He had found his world
Alas, one he could
Never call "mine"
With the days
Of their lives
Brimming with joy
The cat found himself,
Rediscovered, stupefied.
He decided
That a life
Without her, a lioness,
Would amount to nothing,
A life given meaning
Simply with every
Breath she took.
Alas, she breathed
For her lions instead,
Where she was one
Among the royals,
As entitled.
The cat, heartbroken,
Lost himself once again
The way he claimed back
From the void
He lost, once and for all.
As his cub
Grew with grace,
Into a fearless hunter
It finally reached him
They they might
Never live together.
Yet their small lives
Are still bound
By little promises made
He is,
In her broken mirror's world,
A black cat.

Author: Kairosclere
Date: 12/06/2020

№ 1415855


A mellow flower
Waving in the wind
Dried yellow
A long while ago
Yet holding on
To the plant stem
Unwilling to let go
Of its past.

Author: Kairosclere
Date: 12/06/2020

№ 1415856

Truth and lies

I saw lies
Behind your smile
And truth
Behind your eyes
The ones that sparkled
Now lost their light
And a wry heart
Withered under the weight.

Author: Kairosclere
Date: 12/06/2020

№ 1415857


Yes, it was a nightmare
But I haven't
Left it behind
A few days after
My mom reached the stars
And shone down on me
No more by my side
Yet her presence felt
All through the day
Returning to
A semblance of normality
Somehow able to
Reach across the void
Her absence has left
The dark patch
Over our souls
But pretence
Is something that is
As natural
As forgettance.
And I converse
With my dad
Of trivial things
Like they actually
And I say,
"Appa, I can still
Hear her
In my head”
An alive phantom.
And I sob
Waking up
Drenched with salty tears
From what's real
And what's not.

Author: Kairosclere
Date: 12/06/2020

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