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Where reality alloys,

Footsteps echo, Haunting,

As darkness descends..

Every sound, imagined or real,

Sets my heart on fire,

A sudden reflex, a jumpscare,

In this bewildering maze.

I yearn for a haven,

A sanctuary to call my own,

A safe place,

Where tranquility is gently sown.

I cannot bear to live in this state of dread,

I can't go on living like this,

In constant distress,

The world a minefield, each step a risk,

I yearn for peace,

For a haven to call my own,

Where I can heal,

Where I can find peace.

Oh,

How I crave a moment of tranquility,

To lay down my burdens,

To quiet the storm,

A sanctuary where I can breathe freely,

And let my weary spirit transform..

Sleepy Hollow, a Halloween poem, is in Spillwords Magazine.

My Halloween poem ‘Sleepy Hollow’ is at Spillwords Magazine, and thank you to Dagmara and her team for selecting my piece. Please go and visit my poem in Spillwords Magazine and give “Sleepy Hollow” a 💗, by clinking on this link>> https://spillwords.com/sleepy-hollow/ Ivor Steven (c) October 2022

I slept with my head spinning, when the world and my cozy little cocoon, both shattered.

I saw the disclaimer on the Instagram story.

Yet, I choose to watch it.

I twisted and turned in my bed, my last alarm rang. I had to leave or I'd be late for work.

I drag myself to the shower, the drops of water started dripping, my shoulder getting drenched. Drop by drop. Like people falling off an airplane

I came out, wore my cutest shirt, a gift from a rather someone. My eyes went moist. I picked up my hairbrush, hoping to brush more than my hair.

I packed my lunch box, made a face when there was upma for breakfast, ate cold cornflakes watching something funny on Netflix.

I rush to office, take my laptop out. The charger that'll sustain the day. My red thermal coffee flask with the black coffee for the day, the blue book and a pen I borrowed from someone.

I sit down, let out a sigh, and switched on my laptop to an array of emails to reply to.

Why are people working beyond work hours I wondered, maybe I should too, I thought for a second.

The sticky notes on my laptop reminded me of my two other jobs, with broken earphones, the day drifted without music to shush my thoughts. Someone passes the hallway wearing the same perfume that a boy I knew wears. Shattered promises, lucid dreams fake smiles and bike rides all rushed to my head.

In a rather larger, emptier office I started communicating to innamimate things and cleared the notifications of burning forests, dying animals and women in veils.

I haven't been able to eat. I haven't been able to sleep. My head questioning everything everyone did.

While I've come back to my rather comfortable room, cold milk, gazal songs and some cigarettes I move time to another day for some better food and strong coffee.

My short story Winter Daughter: A Yule Tale has been nominated for @spillwords-blog “Publication of the Month”! If you enjoyed my story, you can vote below! Thank you, in advance 🤗🗳

the wrestling with reality, with words

thoughts of the un-understood

mountains and ridges flattened

yet valleys remain and deepen

still each step grows lower and steeper

until I'm gasping, drowning in disbelief

greens fade to grey

yellows fade to white

blues becomes black

and I'm in kansas now

heartshattered and breathless

a chasing of the void

the quiet whisper of your voice

glancing your smile in the crowd

the echoes of your dreams (surrounding)