take me back to where i belong
beyond the seas far from life
love me then kill in your loving way
till my tongue gets sour from the forbidden drug
dead but found his body living
while i dissapear in the time
believe god and make my grave
the pious is lying behind curteins
its getting alright but its alusion
wake me up when he is back
and tell me not everything is blank
i never meant to be dead, mom
you know it all why your footsteps then
blood everywhere the killer between us
tell me i am wrong again but i never got blind
but for you, i lost eyes
About the Creator
AINA
your comfort place>
A Chore Worth Doing
Begrudgingly, I tromped down the deck stairs. The clomping of my reluctant feet hit each one as I continued to descend. The sound echoed through the silent Saturday morning air. My resolve to do this began to erode until a cool, soothing wind caressed my cheeks. The serene stillness of this quiet morning wrapped me in an envelope of peacefulness. I sighed in relief. Ready to start my least favourite chore, but knew no one else would do it. I grunted in displeasure as I leaned down and coated my brush in paint, then pressed it to the fence. Finally done procrastinating, I began, and I allowed muscle memory to take over.
By Donna Fox (HKB)6 days ago in Poets
Devoured
My fingers dance across the yellowed pages of the library’s archaic volumes. Despite the candle illuminating the shelves, I’m not searching for a book. Instead, I’m relentlessly investigating the halls for a door to run from the horrible reality that consumed all our lives.
By Isabella Rose6 days ago in Fiction
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