ghost drifting through the quiet halls
pale under the flickering fluorescent lights
click-clack against the tiled floor
echoes too loud off the walls
reverberates through her chest
now strangely empty
inhale
exhale
every breath far too heavy
eyes shift past faces
she knows she should recognize
seems another time, another life ago
not now
not now
cool air breathes against her face
the early morning hours stretch before her
twinkling city lights spread out across the darkness
cars move up and down the streets
hurrying, scurrying
time presses on
though she can’t feel it move
watch on her wrist keeps ticking
moves past the hour
though it stopped for her thirty-six minutes ago
inhale
exhale
feeling comes flooding back
rushing in
spreads across her chest
seeps through her skin
tightening
tightening
the city lights blur together
strands of colour streak through the dark
moisture drips down her face
she doesn’t care
doesn’t care about much
right now
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Comments
the steady pace of tension is nice,
very well structured to.
i enjoy the breaks of "inhale , exhale"
--
Ameas Qua.
i featured this in my journal as well.
--
Ameas Qua.
One suggestion I would make is that the line "seems another time, another life ago" would get the feeling across just as well without the "seems" at the beginning, and I think it would flow on better to the next line that way.
I like your use of repetition. You've done it well, so that it emphasises ideas without getting tired.
--
Ní fonn liom é.
--
My pond aerator is bubbling as it should.
In this terrible town.
And slowly she burns.
And we’ve both paid our price, paid our price paid our price paid it nice,
Where the walls shall have eyes,
In this terrible town.
So gently she turns.
And she dances with tears, with her tears with her salty-hot tears,
Where the doors shall have ears,
And we both feel the fear,
In this terrible town.
A secret she learns.
And crying she yearns, yes she cried and she danced and she yearned
Where the heated night air shall be churned,
Where she danced with her tears,
Where we both paid our price,
In my evening-hot room,
In this terrible town.
And she burned.
Yes she burned.
--
My pond aerator is bubbling as it should.
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