Chronic Ritual

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Lying by the fire
Fueling my desire
Silently

Pouring tears on the ground
Behind a mask I found
Deniably

Kissing gusts of wind
In hopes it gets to him
Uselessly

Calling out his name
In the winter rain
So lonely

Holding me so tight
In the dead of night
Nobody

Dying by the hand
Of an older man
Happily

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It’s Silently Loud This Winter Night

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/an-odd-trio/

 

I yearn to be gold and known yet untouched
Under a full moon,
While cries echo from the strangers out at night.
Music fills my ears through silver cords to drown out their sorrow,
As I draw the blinds and close my window shut.
Ice gleams a spotlight for a werewolf’s howl,
Frightening the black cat clawing just outside the walls.
An impenetrable fortress became my home.
I turn a blind eye to indulge in a nice, hot bowl of soup.

So Persephone is still imprisoned within Hades’ grasp;
I can’t rescue her for I can’t even save myself from the voices in my head –
Move on… They did… Move on… They did… Move on…
Oh Persephone!
I miss you!
Mother misses you!
I know you’ll always come back,
But in many ways I’m still the black cat I try to evolve.
When you leave I assume you’re never to return.
I have swimming trunks and a beach towel already packed.
All my senses busy
Eager to remain unchanged.
Anticipating our reunion in total disregard of the commoners.

Bedridden Bedlam

Incandescence of the typical,
I’ll just sleep alone
Tonight. Again.

Philanderer ignores my call,
I’ll reap what I sow
Tonight. Again.

I can’t shake a whore tree
And expect an angel to fall out.
It’s daubed in permafrost,
Got the flu when innocence lost.
Not even bedridden bedlam
Knows where it could be found.

So I’ll just sleep alone,
I’ll reap what I sow
Tonight. Again.