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Nighttime poetry

I’ve been having really strange dreams for about a week now. People from College mixed with Katniss Everdeen (no I have not seen the 2nd Hunger Games movie yet) and being turned into a stone statue, and being trapped on an island, and spiders biting my toes (turned out to be my kitten) and all sorts of weird stuff.

So I haven’t been super excited to go to sleep the last few nights, and so I end up turning my light on about 10 times after I’ve turned it off to write down to-do lists, play with apps on my phone, and occasionally write a poem or two. Here’s one:

 

I stared into the fire

that had been eating

at my heart

“What the hell do you know?”

it screamed,

fingers

of heat melting my face.

 

“Absolutely nothing”

I spat,

smiling at the ensuing steam.

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Phoenix

Flying_Phoenix

I’m hoping to finish a phoenix short story for the anthology project I’m a part of. We’ll see how it goes, but in the mean time, here’s a poem about one.

 

For five hundred years,

I have flown only

in sunlight: unseen,

unassuming,

Conspicuous.

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