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At night, against the pulsing embryonic black which could
Squeeze any number of untold horrors from it’s voided heft,
There sits a door; bright searchlights unmoving, having forever
Ago found and revealed the menacing target of their feverish hunt.
The lights, beacons of vision and revelation stay still,
Afraid to ever lift their gaze from the door.

The door; a crimson sentinel of conformity’s’ demands. A gate
To a finite space of infinite secluded terrors. It’s mocking facade,
Not the true foundation of the haunting visage, but it’s chosen
Illumination against the choking nothingness around it.
There is nothing else but it, and if the lights lose
Their oppressive gleaming, there will be nothing.

Would it not be better for the deep to win the ever waging war
Against our struggles to find hints of sight and recognition?
If the door were to vanish from the othering out there,
then it would be impossible to not turn inward. A forced reflection,
a mirror that’s presence is known, existence felt, but is unseen,
only available when the absence is absolute.

Nonplussed, the bastion remains, a gravity well pulsing
In and out the night, as if the darkness centered around
Maintaining the illusion of safety from knowing ourselves.
Do not be afraid, you will not be forsaken or alone with anything
Other than the beating of your quickened pulse, the edges
Of your vision shrinking until all that you are

Is mirrored in that crimson sentinel.
Sometimes even the simplest things can sometimes a sense of uneasy dread
JV Beaupre Mar 2021
Thoughts of dreads came and went.
I fell asleep to dream.

No, not the infinite intestinal maze
with red, slimy, pulsating walls
forcing me ever-forward.

It was worse.

I was in my own bed with a big snake.
I was tangled in the covers and I couldn’t get away.

Flick, flick, serpent kisses to my face.
Slither, slither, as coils envelop.
I knew it was a dream but I couldn’t wake up.

And then I did.
David Naumann Mar 2021
Ripples of water, reflections of the night sky
and inflections of why, words came but all authors’
pens dried and faltered, moments of the divine
lost to the sacrilege of time, feeling came but altered.

Darkness came and surrounded,
confusion came and confounded,
as deep as valleys, as tall as mountains,
heartbeat in chest pounded.

Little lamp lead the way, the end is not today.
Tomorrow will come and stay, so do what I must to stay
a lit by this gentle flame, as all of will not be in vane.
I said aloud in a moment of panic to stay sane.

But time came and the light did not falter,
faith grew in this little, little light of mine,
and it grew to shine without any signs of alter.
Hope flickered as the flame stayed a lit on the twine.

Alone and afraid, frayed rope dwindling
burning as vibrant kindling, however closer did it fade
luckily in the darkness laid, countless stars swindling.
My heart rejoices as I have made it to the rekindling.

No longer alone, no longer afraid
pulse dropped, pounding stopped
the stars came and a lit my flame
I need to thank them all by name.

As I laid staring up at the stars,
feeling so small and alone on Mars,
I forgot all of the people who have came
who shared their soul and flame.

I hope I can keep being your flame,
and a piece of yours mine.
Days will be dark and dreary,
but shine on and shine forth into the night.
Love and adore all that we have.
Ali Hilout Mar 2021
I am veiled. I am an insomniac.
I am a lot of raindrops on window glass.
I am the treasure that is hidden in dunes.
I am the screeching winds on dreary nights.
I am the blossoming trees on a warm spring.
I am your welcoming sight on a starry night.
Do not stand at my final resting place and shed bitter tears.
I am far away. I did not fall asleep.
The Little King Mar 2021
He reigns in greed, destruction
Fear, and hate,
For the sake of people’s appeal,
He conquers their cries,
Upholds the lands higher than all else,
But he does not wish to be here,
He does not wish to conquer,
To reign,
To be King.

He wishes…
To go home.
M Mar 2021
It's not that I don't want to get it, you're just empty.
Drained of empathy and utterly absurd.

I'm not being careless, if anything- I'm quite the opposite.
So I just choose to remain silent and brush your thoughts away.
You chose to devour me
Cautiously-
Giving in, eventually.
A descriptive word
I not often would present
To myself
Has been cast in blindness
By the spotlight

The curtain distorts
The intentions
Of even my own
Acknowledgment

Dwelling at my reflection in the water
When ripples form
At another coin I toss
Wishing

Wishing at a well
Instead of planning,
Because planning
Makes the dream real,
And I’m afraid of reality.

I could spend my whole life
Staring into my reflection
Debating on what I'm worthy of wishing,
Instead of not letting those thoughts
Take over my mind
Fidgeting with coins between my fingers
Before I inevitably let flick,
Instead of pretending I believe in myself
And take a chance on something.

Why would I rather
Be alone
Than run into
Your open arms
Waiting for me?

What things are so important
That I cannot just turn away
So easily?
Doing nothing
Instead of loving.

What the hell is wrong with me?
45 lines, 297 days left.
Maze of life
Does not describe
How this reality plays

We live or die
Bonded to the destiny
Take me, beauty of soul

Another dread begins
Can you save me?

Or just a masquerade
To show me
The beauty of a rebellion
TheWitheredSoul Feb 2021
In the process of Failing to notice
That I was Falling in love with You,

My mind made you a part of me and
Now that I realize, I came so far and Loved so long,

I don't even remember what you were like,
All I have left is a figment of my stupid imagination and That!,
That doesn't even amount to a fraction of what you are.
I wish I had a heart that loved the presence of you rather than a mind that fails trying to make it up to something so that my heartless soul doesn't wither and roam in the memories of our past.

I Love you too much that I am not even gonna ask you to love me back.
Aimée Jan 2021
my roommate, dread.

i have a roommate in my head.

their name is dread. i can’t remember where they came from. they just arrived one day and never left.

we don’t talk. i don’t think we ever have. i’ll be honest. i don’t like dread much. whenever they come out from their darkened, cold, sad room, they bring this intense aura of stomach illness, loneliness, anxiety, stress and depression. they stay around me for a while, spreading this aura all over my head until it is almost unbearable. then they leave. back into their black abyss and lock the doors.

i’ve tried to kick them out. tried to explain it’s not working out, us being roommates. they just promise to be better. it works for a while. they’ll leave the home that is my mind for days, even weeks, at a time. i always wonder what they’re up to. i can’t help but feel worry. i worry about their safety. i feel a deep sadness when they leave.

because even though they bring me such misery when they’re around me, i can’t help but feel comfort when i know that dread is still here and just a few feet away locked in their room. maybe one day i will be able to move on and break free from the shackles that dread has on my life.

»a.n.o’h.
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