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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: June 06, 2017

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Submitted: June 06, 2017



Quiet bodies breathing in the night . Immortality smoldering in the sanctuary of light. We are fossils. Porcelain relics left on a shelf. We mutilate the meanings before they are grasped by someone else. Quiet, can you hear them sleeping? As the sunshine climbs through her window into her bed . Apocalyptic voices whisper from the dead.

A rare flower blooming in the soil can evade the love that brings a man turmoil. As she greets the phantom in the white labs of sin. The glass migrates under her thin pale skin. On goes the rabid attack from the cage . That had trapped the bat full of rage. Nothing is alive. Nothing is blissful. The spoon takes a ride on the back of a crystal.

Attic full of rats watching like spies. Her flesh is devoured and swarmed by flies. Nothing is safe. Nothing is for certain . These hallucinations can forever be a burden. As she wrecklessly wanders home to her lover. Narcoleptic dreams possess this mother. Children are unaware of the silver ghost that she's hunting. Can the one she loves find a way to escape the horrific sound ..... Of nothing ?....

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