he's impulsive. I haven't seen him in a year. I miss poe. he stayed with me. I can't ask him. I can't ask for him. He left. poe. he can hear me. he can see me. i miss poe.



a strange figure approached me late at night. I was 12. he stared with golden coloured eyes. he left as soon as he came. I stare through the vents. where I thought he was.. where I saw him, in our teal blue bathroom.

that night

that night I caught glimpse of him in my window, that night I felt angry eyes on me. that night I began to fear him. only a floating head now.

not symbolic no.

I see him. he sees me.


one day

after my father was done.

he told me he'd hurt him.
for hurting me
he stared intently at the right side of my face. with wide eyes
and pursed lips.

but i can hear him whisper sometimes.

poe

poe. he opened his mouth one time.

one time, I saw him open his mouth, for the first time.

it was a inky mess. it blended with his pitch black skin which contrasted with his bright white eyes. and black iris. he was mad i was in the hospital.

he was mad and didn't let me sleep.

so i stayed up silently as he stared. like always.

poe.