A story of loneliness

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It stands out on the flat maple floor. Everything about it. The color like desert sand, the glinting shiny scales, and the way it slithers across the room. All of them scare him, but nothing matches the sheer terror pulsating throughout his trembling body when he hears the steady shake of its rattle.

Creeping across the floor slowly yet purposefully, it makes its way toward him. As it slithers in circles around him, he fears for his life. It taunts him. Coming close, then drifting away; circling back, then reversing its course. Frozen by the dread, his feet are suddenly heavy. His entire body vibrates but he cannot move. It slides through the gap between his legs. It inspects his feet. It gets closer and closer. He tries to run, but his feet are stuck. …


a poem about dreams

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I.

I can feel
when my skin
is touched
by the heat of the sun

And I feel
when it’s swept
by the cool
breeze.

I can feel
my body vibrate
standing in the cold snow

And I feel
the heat
pulsate through my blood
On a hot day
in the summer.

I can feel
my light
heart when I
climb

And I feel
my lungs
scream
when I fall

And I feel big or small but never the way I feel when I’m awake
because when I dream,
my eyes are closed
But still,
I can see.

II.

The earth smells
like dirt and I
can see the ground
right
beside
my eyes.


A poem

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I.

Chained
to the ground.
Invisible shackles
keep him tied
to the floor beneath him.

Immured
in a state
of eternal regret.

Bare feet
scratched
cut and bleeding
on the road
outside
in the night.
Above him are
the clouds and the stars.
Below him are
the dirt and the chains.

II.

The bonds are locked
without a key.
The road is cold
freezing his wounded feet.
Midnight
And the
invisible chains
still present
tie his legs to the ground.

The key
on the floor.
His hands behind his back
and another chain
constructed
on his wrists.

The key to the lock is on the road
But his hands are tied
with yet
another
invisible
chain.


A Poem

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I. Illusion

It does not
carry
what you think
you will see

The weight
will not
cause
any pain
until
you see
what
is inside.

II. Burden

Not filled
with anything
tangible.

But ugly
emotions
loiter
inside.

Who knew
something so light
could be
so hard
to lift?

III. Anger

Frustration exists
but only to scream
at every thought
every feeling
in your mind
or someone else’s.

Rage makes
your skin
burn
along with
your lungs
and your heart.

It lives in the box
and it never hides
from you
So you
must hide
from it.

IV. Fear

The anticipation
is worse
than the horror
of any
situation.

About

Rohan Rao

Artist, Poet, Writer. If you like my work, please consider helping me at

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