Haikuesday

Wonderful Tuesday indeed!

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My poem was featured by Jeanette of Horror Made for the Horror Haikuesday. If you are into horror stuff, like me, you should definitely check out her blog. You can find lots of amazing artworks there from a very talented artist. I love her blog a lot.

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Babaeng Kamatayan (Woman of Death)

I turn off the main light in my room. It’s time to sleep now. I reach for the lamp that stands on the corner of the wooden table near my bed and turn it on.

The room brightens up from the lamp’s dim yellow lightThe light from the lamp makes me feel safe. It clears the room from any monsters that would pop up if I open my eyes.

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Sinister II

Last night, I got the chance to watch Sinister II in the cinema.
My Fiancé tried downloading the movie from torrent, but they only have the cam copy. So, I convinced him to watch it in the cinema because I want to get scared! Really scared! Big screen, loud speakers, dark room, and screaming audience! I want that.

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The Swing

There is a girl in a lovely pink dress,
Seems too small for her, but she wears it nevertheless.
She sits on the swing and looks at the sky,
A smile on her face as she sings a lullaby.

The girl had her hair tied in a pink ribbon,
But she doesn’t seem to play with any of the children.
She sits on the swing, goes back and forth,
Scraping the ground using her foot.

The girl on the swing, she’s always there once a year,
Swinging up and down, every 10th of September.
Her hair tied in a pink ribbon, wearing the lovely pink dress,
That even if its too small, she wears nevertheless.

I sat on the swing a day before the 10th,
And saw that the ground had seemed to ascend,
Under my feet was a gravestone that paved,
To the girl in a little pink dress’ grave.

© Pancake Bunnykins

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The Coin Flipper

She is there again.
On her laptop, writing.
Window blinds were put down.
She likes it dim when she writes.
I know. I’ve been watching her for quite some time now.
I guess it makes her adrift from the real world.
She is in her own world. Writing her thoughts.
Making her more sensitive to me.
She is aware of that. She just knows how to disregard my presence.
Or she thought.

I need to be noticed.
I’ve done it a few times.
I saw the fear in her heart but still she doesn’t acknowledge my existence.
A few months ago, I passed in front of her curtain, a fine black shadow.
She saw me. She told others that she saw me.
They tried to convince her I was nothing.
She knows what she saw. But she just pretended they were right.
She can’t fool me. I can sense her belief in beings like me.
I am not alone. Others told me about her that’s why I followed her.
To be noticed.

She thought I was gone.
I am still here.
I don’t want to scare her.
I just want her to acknowledge me.
To save me.

She is alone.
It’s dark.
This is my chance.
I need to be noticed.
I need to do it a manner she never experienced before.
I am standing just across her near the corner.
Beside the table where they put a lot of stuff.
Keys. Wallet. Pens. A picture frame. Coins.
A coin.
This is something I never did before.
I flip the coin.
The flipping sound echoes in the whole living room.
It’s the only sound you can hear amidst the silence.
She looks at where I am.
I am here. I wave!
She didn’t see me.
I am weak.
I don’t have enough energy to make her see me.
This is her fault.
The more she ignores me, I become weaker.
She tries to type on her laptop again.
See how she ignores me?
I know she is still thinking about how the coin flipped on its own.
It was me!
Ignored.

Again! Let me try this again.
This time, she will feel that I am here.
I flip the coin. It flips a little slower and longer than the first one.
Ah! I can sense a flush of energy inside me.
She stops what she’s doing.
Yes! I got her attention!
She stands up and walks to where the coin is.
Her eyebrows now in a frown, she holds the same coin and flips it herself.
Haha! She is trying to convince herself it’s some kind of gravity or natural force.
It’s me!
No one can do that. No one is here except you and me.

She walks to the front door.
What is she doing?
I have her attention, but she’s walking away.
She opens the door and the light goes in.
She opens all the windows too.
She knows I am here!
But wait…
No!
I can’t stand the light. It makes me weak…
I can’t…..

© Pancake Bunnykins

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