Live in hell…

By standing stone
Deeply inscribed
I place my hand
Upon its side
Feeling something,
Somehow died
Not corporeal
But deep inside.

Emptiness gnawing.

The monster which
Haunted my night
Crept out from depths
Of dark delight
Below the bed
In shadow hides
Today he follows
Close by my side.

Wind blows cold against my skin.

Why did I come
Here where I dread
I force myself
To read the dead
To whip myself
And feel the pain
To live each moment
Once again.

The monster whispers.

“You are nothing,
Never were.”
I face the truth
In what is heard.
For I am nothing
If I dwell
On what is past
And live in hell.



Some sad wishes come up short
Stuck fast upon the side;
Unrequited expectations
Hopes which now have died.

I wonder what would happen
If I helped them on their way;
Would those wishes still be wished
Or now cause bitter pain?

If wishes all were horses
Could you make them drink?
You can throw a wish in water
But you cannot make it sink.

Astral Projection

Astral projection became easier with practice, but she found that sometimes her dreams, and the projected reality she visited, became confused with the sounds of the world where she lay sleeping.
As she floated gracefully over the serene moonlit landscape below, she couldn’t help but dance along to The Ketchup Song.

Couldn’t resist this!

In response to Jane Doughtery’s Sunday Strange Microfiction Challenge.