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Apr 2018
I lie in bed sick
but it is not disease that
is crawling under my skin.

A million mouths speaking
in monotone -

(how funny it is their lips are
a thin line.)

sleep
sleep
sleep -
(it rhymes with sheep!)

One more hour
One more night
One more howl into the abyss
(does it howl back?)

The dead silence of the night
it knows my mind - too well -
too much -
like a hammer knows  

Where to land
to strike a nail
like a surgeon knows
not to slash an artery
with a tremor of the hand.

I pull down the darkness
and pray for it to take me,
swallow me whole,
"Take me anywhere,
anywhere but here."

A million mouths hissing
in unison:

(how strange it is they have snakes for tongues)

sleep!
sleep!
sleep!
(it rhymes with weep!)

One more hour
One more night
One more scream into the void
(does it scream back?)

I lie in bed sick
but tonight I shall dream
of voices ripping me apart.
April 2014
Written by
Elicia Hurst
232
   Nigdaw
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