Red Lights

 “Prepare to darken ship. Let no white light shine topside.” The loud speakers called out the same thing every afternoon before the sun went below the horizon. Life on a Navy ship is most remarkably characterized by the glowing red lights within the ship at night. Red light doesn’t travel as far to other ships, which would give away its position.

 Corey Simmons always grew more anxious walking around the ship at night. He always over thought things at night. The red lights made it worse. The dulling of his senses walking through the pitch black into the red areas creeped him out. It put him on edge.

 He was walking the passageway from his shop to his berthing. The red lights are spaced out every twenty feet or so. That allows for darkness to be spaced out every twenty feet as well. the red and black rippled down the ship’s interior. In one of the black areas, Corey hit his shoulder on a large electrical box. “Shit.” He rubbed his shoulder as he kept walking. Corey came to the end of the passageway. There was only a locked hatch. “Fuck man.” He looked around. He missed a turn or a ladder well. Turning around, he went back the way he came. He didn’t recognize where he was. Corey went down the first ladder well he came to. The aluminum ladder shook violently with each step. It made much more noise than you’d expect on a steel ship. Then again, steel toed boots aren’t the lightest of footwear. He still didn’t know where he was. That wasn’t so uncommon on a ship this size. He cursed himself for not remembering the frame and hatch numbering system. He should be able to use it to find his way anywhere on the ship. He walked for two or three minutes more, taking various turns and trying to find a familiar hatch or landmark within the ship. Most of the water-tight hatches were ‘dogged down’ to prevent water intrusion in case of flooding. That was rare these days, but precautions were always taken. 

 Corey could feel himself getting frustrated. He started to sweat more the longer he was lost. When was the last time he even saw someone else? Even though it was the middle of the night, someone else should be walking through these passageways. His anxiety was beginning to rise. Corey began to overthink the situation. His breath became short. Then he became light headed. He knelt down and put his head on the cold metal floor. 

 Dark thoughts began to enter his head. He thought about all the negative aspects of his life, about how he always felt inferior. There was a lot of bravado in his daily life. He overcompensated for having a low self-esteem. He began to think of past sins and indiscretions. He thought of that summer in college when he swallowed a bottle of sleeping pills to try to kill the pain. With self-loathing, Corey kept drudging up the past. He knew God. He knew he believed in God. He believed that he was forgiven of his past. Corey just couldn’t find a way to forgive himself.

 In a moment of clarity, Corey remembered being young, maybe six or seven. The neighbor kid, Nathan something or other. He thought it might have started with an ‘A’. Corey remembered Nathan touching him and making Corey touch him in return. Nathan must have been thirteen or maybe a little older. Nathan made him go into a closet in the garage. It was dark in there. Corey was scared, so he did as he was told. 

 Corey didn’t know why he was remembering this now. He wished he hadn’t remembered. He wished he could forget it. He could feel tears roll down his cheeks. He cried until he passed out.

 What must have been hours later…

 “Dude!” Corey felt someone kick his shoes. “You can’t sleep here. Simmons, get the fuck up.” He felt another kick. Corey opened his eyes to see white lights all round him. They were bright. They hurt his eyes.

 “Sorry.” he said. Corey looked down at his watch. He was late for morning quarters.

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Detached From This Very Moment 

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Detached from this very moment
Divided from the tumultuous past
Cleansed of all those broken hearts
Never allowing those storms to last
Unplugged from the hatred spewing
Their immoral intent will not be condoned
Souls can’t listen when the mouth rages
Settle in; victory reached when love is shown

Tired Of The Ancient Traditions

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Tired of the ancient traditions
Feeling scared of former neglect
Provocations of patriarchy’s past
Though, I’m here to firmly reject
Everything outside of our union
Reallocating life to its proper size
Knocking over their pedestals myself
Escaping from undutiful, prying eyes

Perhaps We Should Outlaw Hate?

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Perhaps we should outlaw hate
Tired of them dictating our actions
Forcing us to fear living normal lives
Their bombs & their guns desire immediate redaction
Appeasement never worked in the past
We can’t survive by filling rifles with flowers
But I never want to hate like my enemy
Somehow, a united front is needed by the World Powers
But I reckon they’ll continue to squabble
Letting every opportunity pass on by
Their egos reinforced by their Cold War arsenals
But the truth remains, how many more innocents have to die?

Pretty Girls Are Pennies By A Dozen

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Pretty girls are pennies by a dozen
Beauty is fickle, you better have more
Please don’t come with the same story
Leave your tired past at the door
Say something to make me feel alive
You’ve always spurned life by chance
One day the clocks will fall upon you
Free yourself, purposefully; not by happenstance

Moments Filled With Tragic Thoughts

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Moments filled with tragic thoughts
A past I never wanted to defend
Those weren’t the only ones
Wasted time you never got to spend
Heartbroken & scattered about
Cannot remain stagnant out of spite
Motivation needed to gather yourself
Fewer sands to rebuild up to that height

His Disturbed View Of The American Dream

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His disturbed view of the American dream
Maybe he went & got tattooed one too many times
The coffee & cigarettes unfold to clear his path
Envisioned between the wondrous filth & grime
Dredged details with twists & turns of another
Hazed morning blurs direction to the local Starbucks
Elegant patrons stepping out from higher society
Rubbing shoulders with commons down on their luck
Stilettos clacking upon the tile with another escape
Former dive bar angels way past their prime
Stalking & eavesdropping into a life he’ll never know
Maybe he went to that well one too many times

I Remember Your Delicate Dress

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I remember your delicate dress
Lying in a crumpled mess
Waves crashing in crushing blows
Ignoring every painful woe
Casting off from your direct fear
Pushing past deteriorating piers
Hold fast to everything you’ll miss
Tolerating life, such as this

Cavernous Depression Falling Down Without Truth

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Cavernous depression falling down without truth
Wet streets refracting the bitter twilight of the moon
Trenches & overcoats pulled tight to repel the world
A need for answers that cannot wait past this noon
Try to place everything perfectly into its correct box
Finding out the little control we have while we’re here
Knowing the results we wish to see once the sun rises
No need to stay dry when you’re drowning in this fear

Delirium Induced By Broken Memories

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Delirium induced by broken memories
Shudders left lacking in female attention
Visions remain long after waking
Thus resulting in fragile retention
Those ministrations forever known
Dusting off the scarred, forbidden plot
When did the journey cease to please
Chained to the past with defective thoughts