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Yashkrit Ray Jun 13
A deer near a pond
Drinking water, sees lion
Now fears the water
Some moments of happiness that suddenly turn into horror that haunts all the life.
There’s a bin on the way home,
I wonder what’s inside.
A tired ocean? Remains of a dome?
Expired food? A bucket of fries?

I came closer to the smell of fish,
I open it, it was red, black and white.
Whatever I saw inside that day,
Made me scared for my life.

An eye, a liver, a lung, a tooth,
All of it inside this dark, heavy booth.
I closed the bin quickly, I wan away,
I guess I can call it a day…
This is a poem inspired by a panel from the manga Uzumaki where Mr. Saito dies, his body twisted into the shape of a spiral.
when the lights go out,
i am swallowed by nothingness.
it settles like a blanket over me —
but it is heavy.

the world becomes gaps and blanks.
my mind fills them.
it paints them with my worst fears:
murderers, monsters, you.
you come alive in the dark.
you lurk in the corners,
waiting for the moment
i blink.

but the images don’t move.
they are stagnant-
still, yet smothering,
seeping into skin
and squeezing the breath from my chest.

i say i’m scared of the dark,
but truly,
i fear the corners of my mind
and what they birth
when i’m alone long enough
to let them speak.
2:12am
I should sleep
Merkelig May 29
Lithe as breath—
the flame bends
never breaks—
a matchstick’s dance
poised on ash.
*BLT'S horror prompt challenge
**lithe
***If you choose to partake, post your piece, then message me so that I may re post and add it to the collection found on my home page
****please remember to place word and BLT's Challenge in the notes
neth jones May 28
back to the masterplan   to the **** grown crop                  
                  chop-chop    food tinned for the great red heist
the pawn heads   duds stringing out the gross termination
growing the bomb pocked sod with ashes                    
                            fertile with calcium phosphates

growing history fascist-faced                          
  no space for art  love and earning yourself
mal-educate       no learning to learn
back to the masterplan    no time to explain
just be a sport   and don't dare complain
original (05/25) : back to the masterplan/ to the **** grown crop/chop-chop food/tinned for the great red heist/the pawn heads / duds stringing out the gross termination/growing the bomb pocked sod with ashes/fertile with calcium phosphates //growing history fascist-faced /no space for art and life and love
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