Living Dramatically

by Matthew Nerber

And it was a walk

Down the street so often travelled

But words unfamiliar and

Unspoken

For so long

Phrases masking intentions and feelings and pride and boldness and

Fear. (of what?)

Hoping for tears (and trying so very hard to make them come)

As if they would answer questions of some sort or another.

Questions unformulated in light of

Pre-determined answers…

…and back up the drive to where it began

The walk of words that said everything and meant

Something?

But leaving out the most important words of all.

He would think on it greatly

But (in an ordinary fashion)

Come to conclusions on

Nothing.

Buried Alive

by Chris Galac

It’s pretty dark down here

Not unnerving dark

Not dreadful dark

Just nice, calm dark

And trust me

I’m enjoying this

The peace and quiet

The peace of mind

The piece of earth surrounding me

So this is what you do

With all the little broken toys

You take them

And you hide them

Six feet under or something

Close to that

Or the middle of the earth

So not even the

Animals can smell them

And dig them up

And show the world

They forgot to take one very

Important step

Before they put me down here

A Heavy Sigh

by Christopher Fecio

The relief of the night finally touches him, and he finds himself laying solemnly alone. The air around him is thick and heavy; the rain is bound to be near.

She stands alone in the corner,

shrouded in the moon’s endless glow.

Her shadow stretches across the floor; it does its own secret dance.

Two worlds endlessly collide, finding a way to intersect yet remain independent. Love’s lingering feeling is not taken lightly; there is still much to discuss.

Five

by Harrison Lockhart

Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she stared like an owl, unblinking, at her brain. It lay gracefully in a haze of electric activity. She flew into the stadium of her skull and followed one of the endless pathways for a bit. She could feel herself thinking below her, dark thoughts of falling empires and shattered glass. The ground was wet and pulsating; the air, a thick, damp buzz. Everything was still as death, but moved with driving force like wind, and she felt that she was among friends. And enemies. She arrived at her destination: a gaping crater, shadowy and immense. Her first step into the lesion felt like a first step onto a coarse, sandy beach. The next was sloppier, muckier, and this trend continued until she stood in the center of the dark mark that was killing her. She was knee deep in muddy fatality then. She stared up at the distant ceiling, and saw her entire life painted there, changing and moving as only life does. It was like a boring Sistine chapel. She closed her eyes for the first time, and the world went completely silent and dark. She was repulsed by what she saw up there. She opened her eyes and the world rushed back in like a river, seeping over her. She spit into the lesion and made her trek back to consciousness with reflective poise.