3:45 Am Monologue

Another depressing rant

Anything can happen under the cheery sun.

Someone lost a balloon.

Others their life

But most certainly, their smiles

A lot occurs under the clear blue sky.

Injustice, robbery, and arson

Someone jumped after losing his mind.

There are lots of posters asking for a missing son.

On this nice, warm day

Families are forced to move away.

Genocide, war, and famine are all around the world.

But there's always more show.

While birds are chirping and kids are laughing.

The intelligent missiles are flying

In some other place, an earthquake has begun.

Right now, lots of animals are prey of the commercial hunt.

There is so much work to do.

So much pain and indiference

What's the point? Is there any difference?

Then the madman is the one who lives alone.

Do you have a favourite conspiracy theory

I'm between that conspiracy about bots managing internet traffic, data mining and manipulating the public's opinion to certain agendas and the alleged vampire attacks in central america staged by some US agencies in order to cause mass hysteria.

Saturday night rush

In the distance are neon lights. I hate those crowded pubs. Too much noise, too much chaos, and too much vigor Enough to shake your ego.

Someone taught me how to inhale. Without warning, the pretty lights overtake. Soon, I start to dance and lose my nerve. Everything seems to be a celluloid layer all over again.

Sweaty shapes and colors under the electronic sound invisible groping and hugs between my laughs Soon I'm all yours, both kissing on the latex couch. Hearing all the pandemonium inside my lungs

I found myself in your room, on your bed. Inside the linen sheets, deep in the embrace You are kindly talking about our future while caressing my head. I'm listening, letting my feelings for you finally rest.

A quick one before supper

I took a heavy drag.

My lungs relax.

Heavy silver smoke

The tremors are gone.

'It's so bad for you!' said the yellow teeth hag.

She took my fag from my dry mouth.

In a second, my roll was pulverized on the ground.

I almost broke her nose. I was so mad.

Nowhere to go, not a single light.

The game has been changed.

Everyone has a fake mask.

And nobody can lend a hand.

Away from all.

Under the bridge, I lit a new one.

Far from the empty laughs,

I inhale the noxious gas.

Everything is fine now...

The chase is on

The chase is on. It's pointless to look back. She was running wild. While her persecutor follows by

Small steps full of hatred Echoes through still dark hallways One mistake, and it's over.

The chase will never end. She has created karma in her soul. Her shadow is what hunts her. So they can be again whole.

Small steps full of woe The dark wooden door is blocked. Now the persecutor touches her cheekbone.

The chase has concluded. They are coming back home. Old personalities begin to dissolve. While the heart yearns for a safe return.

I hate those summer nights

Such hardship is to write

When you have a knife embedded in your spine,

The bones passed the sentence this morning.

Myself is gone; no more soul coupling.

Waiting in the bedroom alone

A hot, wet night full of scars

Keep away from his poison; no more trouble.

While in bed, sweating, puking bile

All my life, the bones said in a grave tone.

I was submerged in the bitter black woe

A miracle of the agonizing fate

My deep cuts were in vain.

Ever since that November evening

I feel my open wounds becoming blue.

Once you notice it, you can't stop the hum.

And I should hold my puke whole.

How on earth might I change?

For I only knew pain.

The bones said I possessed the tools.

That I must try and always carry on

The happy word of the day would be book.

Blue Strawberry

Blue Strawberry Walking by the street Amazed by such lovely boutiques Green thoughts, yellow felicity

I used to be loved. Sharing pink phrases Lots of red thoughts Drinking down brown praises

Freezing cold blue with milk Toasted with some aquamarine Our favorite dessert When we used to share mistakes

Now, the present is here. Colored me impress The Black Day still has a gift to send. Blue strawberries to my dearest friend

Writing prompt. Dialog: 1.

-"How do you make beer?" Asked Ryan.

-"As far as I know, It's like making bread , but you add water." Said Muck

-"It can't be, my cousing works in a bakery, they use water to make the dough." Ryan took a sip of orange juice.

-"Well, if you know so much, why are you bothering me?" Muk protested.

-"I've never claimed to be an expert, I just know water is used in both processes, I was asking out of curiosity."

-"Ok, but why is beer a subject matter now? It's not even noon!"

-"I've heard some cats are collecting postcards as a hobby, well I want to make beer as a passtime."

-"You mean, penpals?" Asked Muk with a grin.

-"No, no! I mean the square thing on the postcard!" Ryan, as short tempered as he was, slammed the table, spilling some juice and almost tipping off Muk's cup of coffee.

-"whoah! Slow down pal! You were talking about beers, why this craving all the sudden?"

- "I don't want to drink them, I want to make them, as a change of pace."

-"So, are you quitting the job anytime soon?" Asked Muk before taking a big gulp of black coffee.

-"No, It'll be a passtime. Look at Tom, the poor guy never took a day off, no passions, not even a single nap. And now he's shaded, a walking corpse!"

-"I see what you mean, it would be a shame to lose you, including your charming personality." Muk smirked.

Ryan was about to protest, but he keep it to himself.

The waiter brought the check, Ryan invited the breakfast.

-"It's called a stamp." Said Muk, while giving his friend the knife.

And they crossed the door thresshold at the same time.

While the rain pours

empty, wet street We were under a robust tree. An umbrella made of leaves

Silver-gray sky Waiting for the storm to pass by It was in vain, but we had to try.

Being close to each other We start to share our warm Our lips are now in touch.

The storm may stop But ours has just begun. Time will tell if everything has a point.

Human leeches

You know one,

Those who fall up

They hoard your luck.

So you'd better watch out!

That gift or prize,

Will be taken away.

With their white smile.

So you'll suffer for them.

They love to be near you.

You'd better escape.

You can't beat them.

Karma will punish you instead.

They'll leave you empty.

And accuse you of envy.

Happy, they'll move on.

Leaving you with boiling blood.