Wednesday, 8 October 2025

Insecurity

 


Those creepy figures

with their spindly fingers

dance in the streetside

strobing lights.

A halloween shrine

by the roadside.

I hide as memories whisper

from the wispy shadows

of this eerie night.

Spirits from a distant

Autumn in a different rain

when the frost-coated

cobwebs of time

echoed out in decaying pain.

A morbid reminder

of a tormented soul

left down in a six-foot hole.

A grave etched with my name.

 

In the veiled midnight

I mourn my passing.

The life I had,

now just ashes blowing

in the autumn breeze.

My coffin lid scratched

until my fingers bled,

buried though still breathing

I mourn the silence

now the hum

has filled my head.

I may as well be a zombie

in this world of the walking dead.

a shadow just passing time

until time is also a memory

in the feint fog of a tired brain.

 

When those clocks

struck a harsh thud

over the thirteenth hour.

A scream for the loss of

who I had once been.

Mourning the loss

of that smile

I once wore with pride.

I heard that whisper

just by my side,

A whisper from a dream.

A whisper of sorrow.

A whisper promising

a brand-new tomorrow.

If only I evade the skeletal reaper

calling to harvest my soul

like a pumpkin plucked

from the hardened soil.

 

In that thin strip

of the fabric of night

I saw my sacrifice, my heart ripped out.

I saw a shrine to who I could be,

I saw echoes of future days,

if I forgot to be me.

if I allowed the curse to wash over

like a stormy sea.

I see the black cat crossing my path

only to turn back and walk beside me,

and the potion of hope is swallowed whole

I feel it lining my belly.

I stare into the night,

she stares into me and whispers.

Keep going. Ignore the darkness

and find your light,

drown out the hum

with a chorus of love.

Your pathway is ready.

So don’t walk. Run.

 

 




Thanks for reading
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is now available along with 
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it would really help me
continue to do this.

Peace, Love & Poetry
Kyle
 
All work copyright - Kyle Coare  

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