The Reality Institute

3 poems by Marty McCahill


trying to capture something
on a late night computer screen
my eyes hardly blinking
getting dry and ugly
i think this is enough
i think i’m worn out
the thoughts i once had
they’ve all been figured out
and written down on paper
the best that i could
and any attempt now
is just an attempt at those words.

i met you again, in that dark land
inbetween sleep and dreams
and you whispered to me
with your eyes all red
that death didn’t sound so bad
so i held your hand
and helped you understand
there were brighter days ahead


Dexy Ghosts
i remember writing a poem
about how i was in control
those friendly little ghosts
that follow me at home
but now they’ve gotten stronger
and multiplied in number
i can’t even tell
what is real and what is fake
so now i close my eyes from torment
and pray they go away
but what started out as whispers
are now shouts to my face
and their bodies once transparent
have taken on real shape

i am not in control of these ghosts on my back
they have tricked me to calm
and now they’ve attacked
each night they come out
now longer they stay
they try and speak to me
in a nonsensical way
they aren’t there to harm
just there to remind
this is what you get
when you fuck with your mind

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