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Thrashing in the night
Underneath the bed?
Blood runs down my neck
Every hallucination stronger
Roaming wolves and bats
Creamy skinned, pale as morn
Unwelcome guest?
Lonely spectre?
Only a dream?
Sits upon my chest
In agony, my breath is stolen
Screams'¦ to silence'¦
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this is wonderful. the last bit reminded me of that short story by stephen king that was made into a movie. where they thought the cat was sitting on drew barrymore's chest and sucked the life out of her.
Very nice. Some dark fiction poetry really isn't good (most?), tending to feel typical. This is nice and short, but also nice and effective. I like it.
