I hope you never feel safe

with me

There’s a ghost that stands between us

once the room is free

He’s not one for malice; he tinkers in tomfoolery

So don’t let your guard wear thin

And don’t find yourself safe, with me

I hope this ghost

I can trust

I can confide in this soul all the painted words I construct

My canvas is torn

and I’ve snapped my brush

don’t find yourself safe, with specter’s hush

Now I hope I can find repose

I’ve said words so vulnerable, my my I was exposed

You cracked the hard exoskeleton

Somehow it decomposed

And don’t find yourself sleeping alone

So if you ever see a shadow come alive

with a foolish jump and a cynical cry

Please know that it all must subside

Like everyone we’ve known

who has…

            “This place blows” she said under a busy midnight overpass, feeding energy to two tired teens.

            “I can’t wait until I flee from here, I’m never coming back past the day I turn eighteen”

            His reply was met with a kiss and she held his hand tight to fight and ignite their retort’s hiss.

            Their location elect and yet, the above noise excessive and detested.  Their position desired albeit, a restlessness.

            “Can we please leave this place, I am tired of this endless sea of cars” 

And with her query the boy took her hand and led her far and far away from that endless sea of cars.

            And the night grew late and their day now long and so grew their hate of the city that is home.

            “I’m not tired if you’re not tired and I want to walk all the way to the window.  Oh I want to go, I want to go and see what pictures are up for the month, no?”

            Curfew dare and keep them at bay as the boy held her hand and led the way.  All the while talk prolonged, of the vexed city that is home.

            “I like this one, won’t you get it for me?”  She pointed to the one of the City.

“Where was it taken, it looks so pretty” The image astounded and filled each with ease.

            “I think this place is closer than it seems.”

They turned around to face the skyline, a nice sign that they were living in exciting times.

            And they felt their city isn’t so bad.

               The Somnambulist Homicide

                    By Alex Stanilla

I awoke to find an open drawer

And a missing knife

What an awful, dreaded dream I had

On a menacingly, macabre night

Decrepit shadows clung to walls

Depicting ugly sights

Torture serenaded the empty halls

And laughter wrought with pride

The villain’s tone was eager yet

And I knew I’d have to hide

Alas!  I have yet to feel a threat

Likely, my mind’s state was awry

No! what was that courage I then possessed?

Empowered unto thy?

And better yet the happenstance

The murderer was now mine!

I searched and searched the emptiness

But the villain I could not find

An escape for now the coward went

Fleeing into the night

And there I was, alone again

Alone with the corpse hide

And there it was!  It came to me

I looked the villain in the eye

The victim’s blood a mirror yet

In the reflection, it showed I

The very man that took the life

Of the woman that just died

Alas!  His face was new to me

But I assure thee it was I

And there it was, it came to me

Simply a dream I recognized

I awoke at once!

In my own bed

Paralyzed with fright!

It was only a dream that I just had

Yet, something wasn’t right

Where was my wife, she’s not in bed

She was not in mine own sights

I awoke to find an open drawer

And a bloody knife.