Pain 
I remember the first time
blood trickled from my 
skin. My knee scraped 
against concrete.

His hands stretched—

The thud 
as my body hit the floor.
He stood there frozen. 

I watched as the blood began 
to flow down my leg
and drip

Pooling on the floor. 
I stared not with fear 
but with curiosity.
As the pain slowly crept up 
my body. 

A short poem involving a high stakes poker game involving opponents who used to be very close. Now we are competing against them as rivals. A short poem about isolation and loneliness. By Callum Ashworth.

I have no goals.
No ideas come to me.

Melancholy comes.
She sits in the corner, sobbing in damp rags,
endlessly rummaging through pockets full of holes.

Then comes Despair.
It lies on the floor, motionless.
Staring at the ceiling without blinking,
with gray eyes full of tears.

Then—Meaninglessness.
It fills the room like gray smoke.
Turning the pages of a diary full of unfinished tasks.

And Hopelessness.
She stands by the door,
sighing, blocking the exit.

But Loneliness…
It does not enter.
It only looks through the window.

Checking.
Is everything still in place?
Is everyone here?

It is so vast
that it cannot enter.

It waits…
And knocks, knocks.

I sit among them.
They know:
I have nowhere to go.

There is no one.
There is nothing beyond the threshold.
There is no one to call.

Open your eyes, wanderer. Wake up. 

Look: there is sunlight everywhere—

just like back then, in your lost childhood. 

Joyful laughter echoes from afar— 

it is your laughter. 

Remember.

It is so serenely warm here, 

like being in bed in winter, 

under a duvet.

And a field of flowers from edge to edge—

that is us.

Flowers, all the children of the Earth.

Breathe in this air with full lungs. 

There is no more pain. 

Your tears have run dry—

you have shed enough of them.

We bloom and will never wither again. 

Feel how warmly the past smells, 

forever basked in the sun. 

Do you remember? 

When your world was still so vast, 

and your palms were so small 

they could barely hold a picked dandelion.

Now you are here with us—

held in the embrace of memories. 

Our touch—is like the hands of the one 

you once gave us to. 

So soft. 

So gentle.

Feel the lightness of our petals. 

Watch how slowly they bloom, 

caringly covering your skin—

the desert ground that will soon turn to dust 

and irreversibly vanish.

Close your eyes. 

Accept the healing. 

Listen to the thick grass growing. 

It rolls in waves beneath the wind and softly whispers:

— Stay… Stay…

When you make a mistake
They blame you for it and
They will remember it forever
They ascribe a story intent all of it
And they begin looking for your mistakes
Interpret your actions as negatively as possible
They antagonize you and attack you while
Expecting you to not defend yourself
They become paranoid and neurotic about it
They know you've done something and
They're going to find it even if
They have to make it up
They're never wrong

This consumes them and they hate it
They take out their hatred on you
Turn others against you
They say you deserve it because
They need to feel justified vindicated
What they feel is Cognitive Dissonance, immature
Like a child destroying their toy idiotic
At least own up to what they did
A story as old as time

And after they're done the damage is done
They grow bored and continue with their lives
But you never forget you remember and
Most importantly it never stops until
It grows so large it affects everyone
Then the social fabric frays and
The social order they held so dear
Begins to crumble under their feet
The ironic thing is by hurting you
They actually hurt themselves
Rural collapse slumlord
Oppressive parasites

Maybe we should bring back the _____
And show everyone how this actually feels?
Their screams will be remembered for a lifetime
Remind them why we stopped doing this
The scum of the Earth
Barbaric animals
Not people but
Angry mob

On some days

I want to tell you everything

Where I was

What I did

What I felt

I like you seeing me

And the resonance

On other days

I want to hide in the bathroom for hours

And ignore you

When you call my name.

At the tower
One day before
The condemned asked for the block to be delivered
The jailer brought it to her cell

Put her head down on it
The forbidden humm of it
Salty lines of old small pools
from older offenders

Unseen consequences
or ignored
As she slid her fingertips 
Along the dull cold surface

Imagining the next morning
The homage to the king
The beveled edge dropping
Divine separation

Sleeping there over the block
sweetly side on toward the door
In case of sudden visitors
The only fright would be the axe

ARACHNID

BY

PITE M GALLOWS

ARACHNID PT I.

An infection ode to sleep paralysis in the phonetics of accent an’ the madness of the daily Dream

I assumed it's existence t' be futile,

Yet it proved my resistance so infantile,

Covered so tightly in a' arachnid web,

It could be construed in other me'ning,

Don' think so deeply, it's no more a

Riddle than the mid'le of your quibble,

Let it be known this isn't fiction.

I.

Those dark red eyes, those dark harsh hairs,

In sleep it thrived, inept in awakening.

Fear to rest, to sleep to slumber,

The arachnid rests upon the chest,

To choke with crush'ng apt precision,

Strangling webbing, embroiled, my body,

Falling rubble, the ceiling gave birth,

A chalk lined tunnel the room became,

Now in trouble I screamed allowed!

But only air that I could grovel.

II.

Where the arachnid once had crushed,

It screeched allowed, an’ w'th no haste,

It crept 'way to dark'ning corner,

But Alas! With a great falling an' a bang!

To awake to ringing tinnitus,

Room now bare b't save for bones bare,

Skull of child of man of woman,

a tomb like nest of arachnid rest.

III.

Escape but not, I could not move,

For encasement I was held,

And encased I thought shall stay,

Till death do I pray t' depart,

To become an’ succumb t’ be alike,

Skull of child of man of woman,

of dust, as just, I’d seen powdered thick,

where there is written so hurried, so rushed

a note upon the wall:

"No chance you'd survive, but deaths perhaps

a given,

Not always by arachnid, nor ever as gruesome,

Chelicerae to puncture, if poison nor venom,

won't end your displeasure,

then puncture wound trauma will empty your figure”

IV.

Alas, in my fury and my despair,

My dismay to dismantle their decay,

I kicked the' bones end to end an' rattled like cracking knuckles as they went,

In distrust and in distress,

I saw it fit to crush and spit,

But then upon the wall that donned the words,

An opening archway, creaked an' crackling,

splinters splattering,

The opening formed then silence around, not one peep.

V.

The darkened room, sound of dripping,

Sounds of tip tap rapping distant tapping,

As something so sinister in only so dark and obscene a place could behold,

Saw now the fear bestowed, the figure behind,

The dreaded dismaying, feet to the floor,

Began to run.

VI.

As eight legs clacking rattling, flattering,

As I took a’ look behind, (as)

One web two web, spitting and sput'ering,

An endless tunnel of chalk I emerged

In running, Bottomless end, my feet kept running,

The arachnid raging, forever tireless,

Click clack cackling, tip tap rattling,

Beyond this sleep never waking.

VII.

Cold the floor began t’ flood,

The water higher, ankle deep,

The arachnid gaining ground ahead,

Turned to face two red eyes,

Then it seemed in this shallow light, a hundred more in fifty shades, lit the tunnel, turned to run, But as With lightning's blue eruption,

The tunnel became a room again.

VIII.

The bed below held no sway,

Those deep red eyes coming in closer,

Deeper, stunning, almost cun'ing,

B’t caught the roll of the web so slender,

Hairy legs coiled and coiling,

Rolls of silk turned to patterns,

Wrapped an' strangled, a cautious' decree.

IX.

But ever so gentle, ever so graceful, precision accord, Chelicerae armed, an’ aimed for me,

But before the arachnid, kegs raised,

Could pounce to begin a'gnawing,

It gave screams of anguish jumping back,

My body fell, the shock again,

Water crashing a major splashing,

X.

Arachnid feet, rapid scattering,

Scurrying scaling down the now shaft walls,

Scurrying eight legs, scampered up on two feet, eight legs tripping onto four legs, two legs hits the ground running, On lucid dream scenery change,

Chalk to concrete, dirt to brick, to each and all arachnid feet, Tip tap rattling,

Scratching an' thrashing as nails on chalk board.

(And breath)

XI.

Feet in water, feet on chalk,

The distance I ran the same it followed,

I couldn't foresee or yet foretell,

The confusion in background,

Nor the constant an' sudden change,

Th’t I found around me as the raging 'rachnid gave endless forever chase.

XII

“Breakdown/Breather”

In truth I should have known,

I should have been aware,

To dream so awake, to dream so lucid,

How i pleaded for my mare, But the arachnid remained,

At least with my mare, it just sits and it stares!

But this infernal damned spider, it never seems tire,

it's like it's on fire, howay!

And all the while, in an utter flutter, my feet all a stutter an' cramping in rigor mortis,

My breathing a mutter as all I can grovel is total despair:

"Arachnid! O'Arachnid! Wherefore art thou enraged?"

“Wherefore do thee chase me, for my flesh is pale an' sickly, my body consumed by ill addiction"

"An' ma’ brain is taken by faulty cables, poorly fitted an' badly learned, shame and shamed an' blamed you'll be infected.”

(“So”)

“Take my warning I beg you please just leave me be,

I hate t’ have not the strength to bolt much more "

XIII.1

The arachnid retorted stopped dead,

with a sudden halt and an ear popping vanished.

GONE.

As’ water, ankle deep became mud an’ sludge,

And pitch black the tunnel encased,

as a hundred eyes in a hundred shades

in a hundred ways formed

in a hundred thousand light formations,

designed to stun to scare to amaze t’ thrill the flesh right off the bone!

but did it know that good for me it has no effect on poor ol' me,

(Thanks to this I’m stereoblind,)

the littered lit bright red eyes just looked one size and distanced th’ same,

The arachnid cackled then it spoke,

an' quite surprising I wish it didn't.

"So, you see my 'hundred eyes,

gaze upon them, one by one,

see how far into my tomb,

you can follow my yellow eye"

XIV.

Tried to spy that yellow eye,

B't no eye but red could i spy,

Before each eye opened wide,

Bearing could be 50 teeth which followed with a chorus of haunting screams.

These haunting chorus calls, Sent shivers far and further still,

Yet blinked and back I was,

In the bed the arachnid gone anon,

Foghorn bleats on distant wind,

As church bell chimes the one AM far off winter’s pale melody, Night alas still not over,

Fall back to sleep to horror Slumber.

If this isolation is a kind of death,
breath fades, and this silence
is the sentence I am serving.

Unnerving as it is, breathing is not the same
as being alive.

Drive gone, this absolute isolation
has become my sentence.

Repentance follows if this breath is not living.
Giving up, the silence has become my heavy fate.

Late in this death of life,
I am trapped in the dark.

Stark and cold,
being alone is a certain death.

Breath stops,
and so this is my final death sentence.

Was it the blood flowing through him? Is it toxic?

Did her untainted heart reject that sludge?

To think it ran within his veins, so chronic.

A poison bile that her heart couldn't make budge.

A tear in reality to break the matrix.

The robot on autopilot must've gone rogue.

It's displaying signs of love and affection.

Why believe he'd switch his heart on so easily?

Order must be upheld for people’s protection.

Shut it off now, before others follow his steps.

But it's flesh, not metal, they reveal on inspection.

Scarred by her loss, he stopped living, they found,

Tired of fighting for life while his heart's in heaven.

For her, he'd fight his demons as long as he could.

He fought in silence; that battle's now understood.

But now it’s over; he sleeps and wakes restored.

In his arms, his daughter—too perfect for this world.

It describes this life so well, being left so alone.

Unbeknown to the world, I hate this so much,
this painful aching loneliness.

In this abyss, outside, life goes on and passes by.

Up high, it leaves me to continue to drift away.

Day after day, I am sinking further and deeper
into painful aching isolation.

With passion and frustration,
I hate this with every breath.

Like a living death, life moves forward
on a track I cannot reach.

Beyond all human speech, it keeps going farther,
colder, quieter.

Like a total outsider, I am left behind
with a painful aching emptiness.

This feels less like living and more like erasure.

Faded and obscure,
the days pass by like a blur of grey,
leaving me behind.

You are a piece of moon

Strangely living between humans

I can not believe you stand there

Not washed away by the noise

You emit secret light

Not everyone can see

And that is good

I have no competition

I touch you

I fondle you

I play with you

Oh I see

You are there

Real

Oh look

I am touching you.

I miss when I was younger

Life was full of blunder

I struggled to climb to become wise and older

But now up here the paramount is colder

Weighing down those around

with that ambient cavalier sound

I wish I was younger before I bought apathetic sting traded for my wonder

Back when my voice was full of thunder

I had dreams to reach with my whole soul

Investigating what could fill this life's hole

Now my words have lost their meaning

My passion is fleeting

I know when I was younger I was a stronger man

Now The digital soapbox hurts my feet I can no longer stand

Hollow are the halls of this heart of mine

Taxed and sold for the fight of more time

The old is wasted on the wise

But I was too pigheaded to realize

The young is lost on the dumb

Never seeing what they become

With this motion there is no place for the nervous

Time is but a measure of life's purpose

Youth's blissful ignorance

Elder's dissonance

I wrote the lyrics, sang the song, and lived the story.

I'm chronically empty.

Is there a reason to be? There's a few!

There's also a few for me to not be! Silly me!

Circumstances changes.

Come and go like a phase.

You can still see the numbness even if it didn't hit you in the face.

It's a disease!

Makes you feel deceased.

I am alone.

I groan at the word,
it has lost all meaning.

Demeaning it is,
worn down by the weight of existence.

The insistence,
it’s simply the shape of this life.

Strife,
where a forgotten soul drifts.

No uplifts,
sinking deeper into the quiet.

 
Knock, Knock, Knock!
 
Hello, My Love!
Are you home?
 
KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!
 
Please open up.
I know you’re alone.
 
The door’s unlocked, I’m coming in.
 
There’s your tragically beautiful face!
Let’s not forget to lock the door.
It’s been a while since I’ve seen this place.
 
Oh! Here’s My chair,
It’s as comfy as the last time I sat.
My Angel, your face is wet, are you crying?
You know there’s no use in that.
 
You and I, well we’ve known each other for quite some time now.
I’d say about 3 years, don’t you think?
But you know what they say when you’re having supposed fun,
“Time flies by, so don’t blink!”
 
Why do you look so hollow?
You haven’t always looked this way.
With dark circles under your eyes,
Your pale skin looks more like gray.
 
Your smile used to be so bright,
Your hair not a tangled mess,
Way before that day you met me,
Before I made you so reckless.
 
So, how did you exactly get here?
I know you ponder this every day,
How did you go from a beautiful butterfly,
To a broken soul wasting away?
 
Your life hasn’t always been easy,
You had to grow up too fast,
Then you met two of my best friends,
A friendship you didn’t know would be your last.
 
They introduced you to a nightmare,
Made up of cut straws and a glass bowl,
They took over every inch of your being,
Opened your mind for My control.
 
Every time you let Them poison your blood,
A bit more of you became lost,
Now there’s barely any of you left,
Your soul had to pay the cost.
 
See, there are people in this world who truly do not understand,
They believe living with Me is a choice,
They don’t get you’re under My command.
 
Every day while you fight for your life,
I’m there to remind you that you failed,
Every plan you make to escape My love,
Always ends up derailed.
 
Outsiders can’t grasp why you choose Me,
They can’t fathom why you’d want such a life,
They don’t see the pain behind every high,
How My friend Withdrawal holds like a knife.
 
“It’s really not that hard, you know, to get clean!”
You heard so many people say,
If only it were that easy to get rid of Me,
If only you could escape Me any day.
 
But, what they don’t know is how badly you want free,
You have begged Me, pleaded and cried,
I just love you so much,
Your freedom I have denied.
 
Maybe one day you’ll finally be done,
You’ll be tired of Me causing affliction,
Until that day you’ll belong to Me,
Signed with love from your old friend,
Addiction.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Days streched and yawned

And I felt bound to an eternal sleep

Wondering

Would it be like that forever.

Depressive.

It's so excessive.

It's almost impressive with how it's so oppressive.

Truly obsessive, a obsession.

A session of the fascination with my devastation.

Comes and goes with it's highs and lows.

What do I owe?

Debt for the depth of my human soul?

Dread is so demeaning, it's inhumane.

Yet, I'm loyal to the crucial cruelty.

You've been wondering where I've been.

I've been hiding in my cocoon.

I need to hide now and then.

From my sadness and blues.

I built up my cocoon from tiny silken threads.

I'm not coming out anytime soon.

With all these sad thoughts in my head.

It's been sad and lonely lately.

It's taken away my health.

The thing that I've learned lately.

Is that I'm better by myself.

Just leave me alone.

Let me feel what I need to feel.

This cocoon has become my home.

I'm the only one that can help me heal.

When I'm ready to face the world.

I'll spread my butterfly wings.

When they are ready to be unfurled.

Maybe my heart will no longer sting.

The most painful thing about it.

I'm finding out who my friends are.

I never had a doubt about it.

All I was left with was me, and the moon and stars.

who is that?
they’re looking at me
they have all the markings of a face
but no defining characteristics
i don’t recognize them
as i gaze into the silver glass

i open my mouth
i can hear them too
speaking an unfamiliar language
i don’t know who that is or
what they said or what they want
i move my arm and they parrot it
almost natural, but so stiff
bordering on uncanny valley

fear and panic set in
no! no! NO!
that cannot be me!
it’s a creature, a mimic, a bot
i’ve never seen that “person” before
i just want them to leave me alone

I felt like a homeless in the banquet of life

I fed on leftovers

Of what angry gods had left.

Desire to sleep in ultimate peace
Long to bathe in tomorrow's sun
Many seek to reconnect themselves
Attempting to love but falling for need

Offer presents of favors
Specific things you wished
Just to get you to notice
Before you turn away again

Mysteries seem to make everything bigger
Mute when the day demanded a voice
Dismissive when attention was needed
All prefer love, all prefer to be known

Each person carrying their hearts like containers
Lining up infront of the same unavailable shops
Falling asleep in the queue
Dreaming of this ideal person

Some graffiti the walls
Some attempt to break windows
But they don't break they just look outward
Like eyes surveying these desperate people

Am I free to leave this line?
Will I linger the way you imagined?
Do you smirk from the inside?
Do you tease me pointing at the locked door?
Or feed me with subtle smiles and turns of the head?

A live mannequin behind the thick glass
More alive than I and the empty wanting people
Shaping the scenery with the grace in your gesture
Sleeping bags roll out night chill arrives
Some consider losing their place in line

Turning back to the candle light on the otherside of the glass
Supercharging their fantastic fantasies
They sit or lay there in the queue
Shutting eyes and entering sleep
While I stare through the window catatonic

My life of sin, continues to dim,
Faltering on the edge, life feels unusually dead
My mom’s up high, life’s always passing you by,
Gotta keep trucking, my mind keeps sucking,
Depression is a hole, it’s going straight to your soul,
You know, life’s got me down, it’s made me feel like a big goofy clown,
Stumbling around aisles, driving for miles,
Without any place, everyone I see has no face,
I keep running in circles, growth on my mind like a mental tubercle.
Going round and round in the same damn circle,
They say time heals all wounds,
But I beat myself up every afternoon.
These feelings ate up everything I had,
Nothing I’ve got ever seems to go as planned.
Life is dim,
All I do is live in sin.