My eyes creak open, rusted from sleep
Mice stir between the walls,
Scurrying away with my heartbeat.
I hear a peep, dust falls from the chimney
Sneak a peek around the corner,
To see the perfect form of horror.

Shadowed figure, hidden visage
Eying the room, suspicious.
A malicious grin spreads, fingers twitch
Towards decorated sweet breads.
Licks his lips, as he cleans the plate
Then makes his way to my giving tree,
A beacon to guide this demon, unholy.

Quick with the turtle tendencies
To hide underneath my shells,
Pop a shot in his gut full of sweets,
To feed him my own version of hell.
Can’t speak without teeth, he mutters a “**, **, hum.”
I guess I was a bit naughty, ‘cause Santa is go, go, gone.

-SLuR

she painted red murals
of beauty and grace
of lovers in bed
in faultless embrace

she crafted these masterpieces
with red poured from skin
to show how misery ceases
when you pull beauty from within

s.s

they always say
not to touch the art
but looking at him
how could you keep your hands off
something so enticing

s.s