Neon Lights bleed around me, drip down my ankles
Like an overly-needed thunderstorm.
Lie with me won't you, in these ghostly lights?
.
There are beds underneath the arcs of white,
Black beds encircled by red dots because we are watched
In all we do and dream.
.
For one night, let us feed the machine.
Let us lie inside the slow-burning fire of this dystopia
And nourish the heart of the monster.
.
Tonight we will burn into purple vapors.
We will dance on the wobbling lines of an archived recording
And we will finally become our very own worst nightmare.
About the Creator
Silver Daux
Shadowed souls, cursed magic, poetry that tangles itself in your soul and yanks out the ugly darkness from within. Maybe there's something broken in me, but it's in you too.
Ah, also:
Tiktok/Insta: harbingerofsnake
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A Dart at Dusk
Seconds ago, the sullen sun set on the two of us… my exuberant furry companion and me. A fresh breeze embraces us, delivering welcome relief from the day’s oppressive heat. His typical stumbling and staggering along — apace with a sloth — has turned into trip-trapping, high-stepping, almost skipping along.
By Angie the Archivist 📚🪶2 days ago in Petlife
Comments (6)
Oh, my! This has such a daring and yet disparaging tone to it! Packed with some vivid particulars and strung together so expertly
Just wow!
So dark and intense, loved it so much!
What lingering images you've created with your poem.
Stunning, almost psychedelic imagery.
"We will dance on the wobbling lines of an archived recording". Very liked lines by me. Artistic.