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Literature Text
My mind miss-gives to the darkness of a darkened heart,
suffering a consequence here that I do not see,
The thick of the air looms, chocking me.
With ebony's mists clouding already blind eyes,
constantly fighting an enemy of no true shape,
fear, for I do not know if I can ever escape.
suffering a consequence here that I do not see,
The thick of the air looms, chocking me.
With ebony's mists clouding already blind eyes,
constantly fighting an enemy of no true shape,
fear, for I do not know if I can ever escape.
Literature
violence
he spits into the bathroom sink
bones pushing against the skin of hands
that grip each other's shadows
as the breaths come slower.
lips crack and splinter as they stretch
in a smile that tastes
metallic, dull with fear,
maraschino cherry red
what shining eyes, what glinting teeth
look sharper in the light?
Literature
Guilt
Guilt (A work of fiction that is all too true) Charles Foster was feeling particularly old today. It must have been the weather. In truth, he was quite old, but as he put it, age hadn’t caught him yet. Born into a war and a veteran of two more, he had seen all that there was to see, done all that there was to do. He now lived in a quiet little house in a quiet little town. Despite his great age, he was still a formidable sight. Foster was taller than a good deal of the townspeople, even when his back was bent like the tree in the town square—as he quite often was. His face was perpetually set in either a grim glare or a scowl, but a few of the older folk like the mayor insisted that he had was soft as a marshmallow beneath the grizzled and weathered face, as hard as that was to believe. He always wore the same outfit: a loose plaid white and blue dress shirt with the
Literature
October short story
It was staring at me, from the window. Its eyes never wavering from meeting mine. Its mouth was just a wide jagged line of sharp teeth frozen into a lip-less smile. Its long claws curved and filthy with something awful. There was something staining the window, the street light outside illuminating chunks and making the dripping lines glow. The creature was unmoving from its spot.
The terrifying part is that it’s on the inside of the window.
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Here is a random critique, since it is not submitted to PoeticalCondition. First off, I noticed, and appreciated, a familiar trick of mine that you used free verse until the last two lines, which are a rhymed couplet. It seems that we both like to play with schemes and result with this kind of verse. The other aspects noteworthy are in the first few lines:
"The darkness of a darkened heart,
Suffering a consequence that I do not see
[There is a couplet here too, i just saw it. Good touch!]
With ebony's mist clouding already blind eyes"
Ha! Blind eyes get blinded more! Wit too!
Altogether a good work.