Midnight-Poetry-Soul

Sitting in front of the screen, Sasha couldn't help but groan as she looked over her work. Or lack of it. She had sat down at her desk earlier in the evening with a nice mug of slightly caffeinated tea to write an entire story over an idea she had thought of for a literary journal she hoped to get it into. Now, it was three am, she had finished off three and a half cups of bitter-tasting matcha tea, and she had nothing to show for it. It felt like the blank page on her computer screen was mocking her as if it wasn't the one preventing her from moving on with her tale. Peering into her now empty fourth cup of tea, she heard a small rumble behind her. Quickly, she got up from her office chair and headed towards the nearby darkened kitchen. She was already stressed out and out of patience. But she couldn't quit now, not with the deadline so close. Opening the fridge, Sasha started to search for anything that might stop the inevitable a bit longer. "Hungry," something whispered faintly

I got the puppy when I was only five I named him Gyp because my parents said he was sick and may not stay alive In the years to come Gyp not only survived but thrived He was a mix between a Basset Hound and a Beagle With big floppy ears, a waddling walk and had more of a deep-throated bay or howl than any bark I used to take him on long walks The Beagle in him always made him want to chase after rabbits Although, the Basset Hound side made him rather slow Gyp didn’t seem to mind that he never caught any rabbits He would come waddling back to me with his big flapping tongue dangling down A look of mischievous joy in his eyes Years went by Gyp became my best pal and would follow me wherever I would go One day my mother died in a car accident three miles from our home I couldn’t talk to anyone I could only cry but all that time Gyp stayed by my side He seemed to sense that something was wrong Gyp would lie beside me occasionally lapping his big tongue across my nose As I grew

I killed myself with all of my senses Now it doesn't matter what I believe I'm tired of a life of mindless pursuits for pointless possessions. I don't want to achieve the "American Dream" Money and power make us bitter and cruel Meanwhile, the people I love are being destroyed because they can't fit into the status quo mold Freedom of thought is seen as a disease and doctors dispense drugs to those who disagree We are treated like children who won't behave and sadly, we follow like lambs to the slaughter We gather up things that we don't even need just to throw them away with the greatest of ease Never quite sure what we are doing it for but something inside of us is telling us we need to buy more We sense it's all closing in The storms in our heads rushing toward an inevitable end Outside the madness and chaos have taken their toll Very few kind people are living and even less are now born We take endless prescriptions but never feel well Maybe we’re all just living in

Alone in the woods Disembodied voices command I must obey them Dank, dark ghostly souls Take me in your sweet embrace Lost worlds for evermore

Tripping on Sunshine Picking up daisies People say I’m unwell but they’re all crazy Lost in the haze No need to explain the whole world has gone fucking insane Living my best life I’m so lazy Can’t carry the weight of these daily diaries It’s getting too crowded When I’m alone The voices keep shouting about some distant home Look to the sky Float away on a breeze Flying is easy When there’s no rationality Somewhere Something Tries to explain About these endless debacles with every age It means nothing to me I’m just a speck of dust that fell from the sky like the rest of us So beautiful here wish I could stay but the world pulls be back so, I can die again today Nothing seems right, Does it mean everything’s wrong? I swim on back to my Lilly Pond Reptilian beings comfort me I lick their faces and eat their fleas

The dead are powerless to tell us what to do and the living are struggling just to make it through Meanwhile the ragtag angels scour our alleyways searching for food Everything is so terribly bright in the middle of yet, another lonely night I look at the clock but it has no face its hands are gone It’s ashamed of how its invention has caused such harm I am too There’s some Liquid-Drano in the cabinet I consider shooting it into my vein Then I remember asylums can only be altered but never really changed I gaze out a window and I see the assassin is near He stares up at the sun but instead seeing the moon Laughs to himself and says: “Oh, my I’m way too soon” Listlessly, I drift out of my body down the stairs There’s an old man in a chair He cuts out his entrails and sadly states: "It's the best I can do, so please try to relate” I splash scorching acid in my eyes as if it could serve as some disguise Voices drift by on a breeze telling me it’s almost morning and I’ve got to

Edgar looked over to the bench in front of him before quickly erasing the line he just drew. He wanted to get this sketch right and impress everyone in his amateur art class. And this new statue was perfect. It was a statue of a young lady sitting on the park bench, her face frozen in an eternal peaceful expression, her stone-gray jacket billowing around her, and her hands outstretched in front of her. Sometimes a dove would land on top of her hands and rest there, the perfect spot for cold windy days. Edgar sighed as he tried to redraw the woman's hair. It was a short hairstyle, but it always seemed to change with each passing day. It was maddening. He set down his pencil and rubbed his hands together. Even with the gloves on, his hands were so cold that they felt like they were about to snap off with the next gust of wind. He breathed into them, hoping his breath was enough to warm them up for a few more minutes. The tiny bit of heat revived them for about a minute before getting

With bewilderment and frustration I lay in my bed and watch with fascination as a three-foot spider slowly ascends upon my wall It looks at me with evil concentration and speaks in a voice filled with self-righteous, indignation about the moral implications of life without salvation Hissing lofty promises of eternal damnation for everyone who doesn’t follow each and every word The spider states its strange proclamation like some misbegotten orientation And suddenly I’m overcome with a sense of realization I now must live in a world where insects can speak and grow so large With a shaky voice, I assert a stuttering declaration without the slightest degree of external validation this must be some kind of weird hallucination, I decide For certainly spiders can neither talk nor grow this large I pull the covers over my head in utter jubilation at my newly discovered revelation There is no giant spider crawling on my wall I laugh with joyful contentment Snickering in

Why, did you eat that meal? Because I was starving But you knew the food was poisoned Yes, but it didn’t curb my appetite So, you are to blame for your demise? No, the poison is to blame But you freely ate the food knowing it was poisoned Yes, but I never choose to be hungry We want what we possess And we possess all that we control But what we can't possess Possesses us And feeds upon our soul Power is a useless tool It’s like being doused in gasoline while worshiping a fire Only to then feel the deadly, burning flames of your own wanton desires

The world is on fire We are all in big trouble Be the fireman