ONLY HOUSES I SEE

witch

The new spring blooms colors.

But who even bothers

to breathe the sweet air?

I don’t have a care.

My car fails to start,

a walk in the park.

I raise my small hand.

Gone is the quicksand.

It races down the hill,

the most heavenly thrill.

Shocked faces turn to me.

Only houses I see.

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GOODBYE

 

TO BE FREE

I want to be free.

I need to be free.

To fly far away.

Above all else.

To soar high above.

To peer down. 

Through the mighty clouds.

Upon all else.

My wings are spreading.

My head held high.

Feathers to the wind.

Face to the sun.

Goodbye to all.

Goodbye to the mundane.

Goodbye to the everyday.

Goodbye to all else.

FLY AWAY

 

Fly away, birds.

Fly free from this place.

From the town of demons.

Where walkers of the night.

Wait for the dark.

For their deadly games.

Palm trees bow to their power.

Sand covers their victims.

Tourists flee the hotel.

The winds howl their name.

Hail pounds their beat.

Lightning shows the way.

The Dead are here to stay.

THE DEAD GAME

Kindle
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Nook
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A PUPPET ON A STRING

 

A puppet on a string.

Creepy.

Surreal.

Never in control.

At someone’s beck and call.

It must end.

Before it’s too late.

Before I turn to wood.

Before I become a Pinocchio.

 

No puppet life for me.

I will stand up for myself.

I will throw off my strings.

I will walk on my own.

I will be free at last.

Never to be

someone’s puppet 

ever again.