please make them stop 

They follow

As I swallow gulps of hazy regrets

Set in the unsettling of my stomach

When my back gets wet and mouth dry

In a heaving crying sigh of longing

For relief. I want to keep the fantasy

Alive, striving to sleep at night, 

Unmoved by the black spirits

That tie my wrists in twists

Of bound terror. Raping my love

with nightmares of rusting

Syringes sticking my chest 

With corroding trust, needles thrust 

Into my belly, leeching syrupy essence

Of rarely-present lust. I burrow my fury,

Purge anguish through a manic soliloquy.

The demons that hang above my head

Fill the dreadful night with the 

Stench of fright and desire for flight,

Away; off a cliff, into the bright 

White light. 


How can I explain this anguish, 

Pain in my brain? 

How do I describe it to the sane? 

How? How?

I’m hollowed, gutted of hope, 

A cheap trope for healing, feeling unreal,

Revealing bitter distaste and disdain

For love or coping. 


Silence envelopes the darkened room; 

I assume the position of reconciliation,

Conditional upon my promise to let myself

Bloom. I’m attuned to the peace 

In the dissipation of musty plumes,

Memories of fluttering doves departed from 

This sense of doom. I crawl back 

To bed like a weary stray, praying 

To stay in your arms for one more day. 

by Angela Castillo (2019)

Angela baby

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