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Writer's picturecharlize andrews

Night

Eschatology

I’ve always taken solace

In the ending of our days

I do not picture vast destruction

Or the earth gone in a smoky blaze

A celestial occurrence will unfold

The moon and earth collide

Planets slip out of orbit

A gravitational ribbon finally united

And once the dust has settled

I will be resting underground

My mind will be clear

My heart will make no sound

I don't crave disaster

Or find joy in the prospect of dying

I only crave for my mind to be silent

For I’ve spent my whole life trying


- Zoe Bradford


Inured

A choice to remain

Within an abyss;

Reasoning not reasoned with.


A spasmodic spark smoldering

Draws one closer

Until the darkness returns.


Distancing gains more distance,

Yet the light’s diameter isn’t disregarded.

Knowing what behooves;

Denial still prevails.


The switch flicks,

That light hebdomadally cast,

Paralyzes with charm.


Dazed, enchanted.

The only memories grasped

seen with bright eyes;

An obliterated remembrance of the void


- Charlize Andrews



The Most Dreadful Companion

By far the bleakest of all companions

is that of which is bitter,

pathetic, and unwavering.

A companion that will not release

the smothering grasp

it holds on a life;

Loneliness.


- Charlize Andrews



.08

On crack-filled paths, you watch your step,

but caution can not sheath the unforeseen.

Map in hand, you strictly follow,

the safer route, cemented neck.

It is better this way.


Yet here you stand,

a twisted tree.

Damn your vigilance, damn your mind,

as all that walking

comes down to a straight line.

Breathe in.

was it all

done in vain?

Breathe out.


A cruel sense of humor, a marvelous silence,

a sunken head;

Your white flag drawn.


Chosen restraint as shoes come unlaced,

they will be okay.

An untangling, not an unraveling.

A beginning, not an end.


Falling,

you no longer fear the fall.

It is better this way.


When you step on a crack,

it is bound to spread.

But it is better this way.


- Riley Bradford



Nothing Makes Sense

I wrinkle apace lovely displays blur,

Once glowing sunsets cloaked, now Doctor, Sir.


A curse, the lightest sounds no longer heard;

My favorite soft frequencies I miss,

I beg you, grant my ears this divine bliss.


The aromatic whiff of dearest scent,

Now vague, my once undying skill is doomed.

My recipes, out of pity, are consumed.


And concoctions foul, now I cannot taste.

This bleakness in truth, made eating so bland -

Everything now most certainly is sand!


Soon, tenderness I fear will recede too,

What immense hugging I must do!


- Charlize Andrews



Haunted House

Ghostly etchings line this place

Depravity lingers in every corner

Each event has long been forgotten

My mind the sole mourner

Time pretends to ease the remains

A new paint job covers the ache

Yet the foundation is far too damaged

Eve’s callous revenge on the damned snake

My body broke the chains and fled

This house that was never a home

Im afraid my spirit forever roams those halls

For a haunted house is all i've ever known


- Zoe Bradford



Tarakanova

Of course, I’m to blame

I’m a threat to your reign.

Go on, lock me away

‘till the end of my days.


Someone so sensitive

should not hold power.

Don't forget, by calling me a fraud

you’re calling yourself a coward


I won’t deny it now,

but I denied it when it mattered.

Win the battle, lose the war,

Have you outplayed the master?


So, here I must stay,

here I must die.

Watch me lay down my life

because you have something to hide.


- Riley Bradford



A Secure Insecurity

Look at the dust on my records

loose thread on my sweaters

the dreams in my catchers

successors of successors


let’s talk about trust

who knew gold could rust

nothings immune

not me, not you


let’s talk about trust

who knew gold could rust

I fear it all fades with time,

because i play both sides


- Riley Bradford



The Colors We Were

Now that I sit here, thinking it through,

I’ve never been anywhere as blue.

Yet I stood there, cold

With you.


Now that I sit here, using my head,

I’ve never seen anything as red.

Yet I stood there, heart throbbing

With dread.


Now that I sit here, memories I unpack,

I’ve never opened a life as black.

Yet I stood there, time wasted

Without being able to go back.


- Charlize Andrews



I Do

A child’s ear against

a door locked from the outside.

Infinite amount of rope,

but the knot comes untied.


Nevertheless, it is a binding thing,

which the poets make sound pretty.

But the child with a salty face

feels nothing but pity


- Riley Bradford



Sixteen

Adolescence: Untouched by the void of irrevocability.

Where there are unbalanced priorities,

there is unwavering belief.

The saving embrace of expectation;

The misleading abyss of abundance


Following their guidance,

concealed apathy, false perceptions;

Running toward what I am running from.


Forgive me for verbalizing the unsensible

Simplicity, so often framed as small-mindedness

Clinging to my confinement,

Wasting my free will.


In theory, preferable to in vain

Do not break the fatal alliance:

A falsified sense of reality,

My secret fondness for fallacion.


An inescapable blessing, kindhearted reassurance;

Oaks trees, red wine

ascension, vertebral subjugation

paralyzation; an inexorable fate

For where there is gain, there is loss.

But no one ever dwells on that.


My indifference: my greatest diffidence.

My unwanted wish

To limit the limitless


- Riley Bradford



Balanced Unbalance

A want, not a need, rises up

as mass shoves and gravity pulls.

A slope created outside of self - unwittingly

Charity teeters, its weight composed of compassion.


Tit-for-tat, tilting lessens.

Laden, shamefaced, horizontal again.

Balance brought - unwillingly.


Unrelenting consciences;

Swaying brought by the heart that saw misfortune,

Swaying that continues by the hard heart of vanity


Stricken, a strike presses downward.

Extracting the value,

reversing the act.


But the worth isn’t monetary

The decline doesn’t portray debt.

Yet the liability lingers

Until it’s parallel.


- Charlize Andrews



Feelings

Beyond my glass intermediary,

amidst the incandescent quietude;

I am mocked by the heavenly hands of time.

Brick’s static impotence, Ivy’s exploitive assail;

I can feel it.

coiling each individual rib

Tighter, tighter, tighter


Contrary to expectation, it does not spread.

It does not overwhelm, does not beg profession.

A politeness which suborns my silence;

A blockaded anchorage.


Verbalization: An underused synonym for redundancy.

Seen, not heard.

Exploit a thought and it becomes a delusion.


Perhaps upon neglect, it will retreat.

Perhaps it is no longer there.

Maybe it was never a thought, always a delusion.

Maybe it has never existed at all.

but i can feel it


- Riley Bradford



Glass Enemy

enemies

a word we all know

what once was a blossoming flower

killed by the chilling embrace of snow

friends turned foes

a classic cliche

the rich amber glow of a sunset

faded into somber gray

i had memorized your features

precise shade of your eyes and hair

attempted perfection on the surface

ugly when stripped bare

you changed as we got older

features I could not recognize

the “beauty” I had once worshiped

i now began to despise

my hatred a burning fire

stoked by who you had become

a girl who desired attention from all

yet was loved by none

all my time spent scheming

how I could hurt you most

i approached you head-on

you watched as i drew close

you’re eyes so full of hurt and anger

to me, it didn’t matter

my fist made its first blow

but was met with a loud shatter

recoiling in pain

everything was suddenly clearer

my worst enemy was made of glass

and she lived in my mirror


- Zoe Bradford



Man of Music

Music - his favorite thing.

Instruments and lyrics,

bands and albums,

the bass player, the lead singer, the drummer.

It's how he tells someone he loves them,

how he remembers where he's been,

how he believes in the uncertain,

how he moves forward.

Music is what he knows.


In the driver's seat, he hears a familiar sound:

He turns it up, an unconscious smile.

His passenger seat, his daughter;

her admiration dressed up as embarrassment.

He plays into the cliche,

wanting more than anything for her to know him,

Know he loves her,

Know where he's been,

Know he believes in the uncertain,

Know he's moving forward.


Drumming on the steering wheel,

he finds comfort within the melody,

feels the vibration through his seat.

The chorus approaches, he longs to sing,

But he has forgotten the words.

His favorite song, a man of music, an unfair reality:

Music is what he knew.


- Riley Bradford



Childhood Friends

I haven’t seen you in years,

and I don’t really think about you that much.


But i know that dent on the back of your head

is from accidentally running

into the handle of an oven when you were 3.


I know you still sleep with a teddy bear named Rosie,

but it's not the original Rosie,

because that one you lost in a strawberry patch.


I know your favorite band is Queen,

but i think that's only because

It's your dads favorite band.


I know you only kissed him

to hide who you really wanted to kiss.


I know why you wore long sleeves that week,

why you resent your mother,

why you let me cut your bangs.


I probably know more about you than anyone you've met since.

But i haven't seen you in years,

and I don't really think about you that much.


- Riley Bradford



The Hourglass

To cease the perpetual…

Throw me under multicolor nylon

– A comfort unlike four walls and a roof –

Thin walls impenetrable by life unkind.

To climb oaks amidst air less lonesome,

No longer going out looking spruce, suffocating


I ran toward what I now run from,

Seeking God in the paved paths before me,

Yet I trip over roots as they grow too long.

The ridden trails behind me show no sign of intention.


To be pulled back from what I once longed for;

A paralyzation of my ascension.

…that is what I desire


- Charlize Andrews



Mirrored Projections

A torrent ricochets, an unnecessary retaliation against the undisclosed.

Believing shards to be held within your skull,

Yet they pierce others relentlessly.

Bonds broken by burdens borne,

Those kept together now distant fragments.

Their selflessness dejectedly turns to auto-infliction

Until a void remains; helpless

Broken glass; a reflection unrecognizable

Loneliness fills the gaps between shattered thoughts within,

A sonorous silence unwittingly seizing a life once sound.


- Charlize Andrews



Birthday Dinner

Forgive me

for not getting the appeal

of half-hearted “Happy’s”

and a half-finished meal.


Sing, if you must;

I’ll smile, unfelt,

as I blow out my spark,

and watch the wax melt


- Riley Bradford



No Title

Faded amber sky of dreams

Old tattered heart frayed at the seams

.Decrepit building held by decaying beams

Throat ravaged by underhead screams

Prized diamond that no longer gleams

Storybook full of misinterpreted themes

Kindhearted forgiveness pushed to the extremes

Long-forgotten paper sailboat floating down streams


- Zoe Bradford



Monsterhood

What trivial expectations

Betray our deepest desires

Our psyches left untamed

Ravage on as wildfires

To be human is to crave

To transform into something more

Escape this cage of mundanity

Find a new realm to explore

Us simple mortal beings

Tell tales of fangs and claws

Creatures lurking in the shadows

Red eyes and vicious jaws

Stands atop our mountain of morals

Swear to be caring and good

Yet deep inside all conflicted minds

Yearns a descent into monsterhood


- Zoe Bradford



W H Y

Three letters, this dwarvish word.

A lone sentence - a question

But it consumes with enormity.


A demanding collection of letters,

At times left unanswered;

An inability to reach a lucid conclusion.


Thoughts of these three letters haunt one’s mind,

A never-ceasing repetition - convoluting -

Louder than any longer thoughts.


Characters unexplained

Depleting spirit;

A damaging triplet destroys one’s self.


- Charlize Andrews



Salvation

Frost on the window

Cracks in the pane

Silence in that bedroom

You left her a bloodstain

Wrap her up tightly

Snuggled into your bones

Leave her bruised and battered

Words a bag full of stones

Its the time of the season

Sings her hymns up to god

Only time she’s not knocked on her knees

Why must you melt her blissful facade?

Heaven must be real

She’ll plead and beg and barter

He’s going to kill her one day

God, please let her die a martyr


- Zoe Bradford






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