Unreality

 

Unreality

 

Walking on a street filled with

lonely people looking downward.

No smiles to be found.

 

Store window displays staring

back with vacant eyes, like so

many lost souls looking

for a place to belong.

 

Days racing by like a speeding

train, only stopping long enough

to discharge passengers. Each hour

barely perceptible as they fly by.

 

Wine drenched memories. Fingernails

digging into flesh. Hair pulled out in

handfuls.  The hot breath of doubt

breathing down my neck.

 

A smile across the face of fear. 

At ninety-five miles an hour racing

towards the sun, no one saw it coming,

as the sky opened up to swallow

those left behind.

 

Unreality has become real, walking

on a street filled with lonely people looking

downward. No smiles to be found.

 

Ann Christine Tabaka

 

Ann Christine Tabaka is a nominee for the 2017 Pushcart Prize in Poetry. She lives in Delaware, USA.  She is a published poet and artist. She loves gardening and cooking.  Chris lives with her husband and two cats.    Her most recent credits are Page & Spine, The Paragon Journal, The Literary Hatchet, The Stray Branch, Trigger Fish Critical Review; Foliate Oak Review, The Metaworker, Raven Cage Ezine, RavensPerch, Anapest Journal, Mused, Apricity Magazine, Longshot Island, The Write Launch, The Stray Branch, Advaitam Speaks Literary Journal, Ann Arbor Review.

*(a complete list of publications is available upon request)

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