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