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gigi-tijiPoems
Alone in a forest of dying trees the scent of wet decomposing leaves Morose moose head Cut at the neck I can see your years like tree rings Body Split in two Down the center At the Great Divide Flies boil up from your flesh. You were fuzzy once. I can't hold my breath. Putrescence fills my lungs with rotting death and my stomach turns upside down. Stumbling to fresh air I trip over your grinning, toothless nearly human face, spurting seemingly ceaseless blood from its masticated mind. It is only attached to the torso. I can see where your legs should be and your are trying to drag yourself through the dirt towards me clawing with your twisted fingers. Trailing entrails, half emptied. Fully feeling. I'm lying in bed. Sunken eyes wide open. All I can smell is rotting flesh. I'm peeking down my hallway now, and I see many mangled hands, reaching from every doorway. Burned, bruised, and beaten. I sprint down the passage frantically throwing pentagrams like ninja stars through thresholds. I hear sizzling like morning roast drips onto coffee burners, and I explode into the kitchen. "Good morning! Coffee is ready," Mother greets me, smiling. The hallway is dead silent.
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Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 6:49 AM UTC
Daymare
Alone in a forest of dying trees the scent of wet decomposing leaves Morose moose head Cut at the neck I can see your years like tree rings Body Split in two Down the center At the Great Divide Flies boil up from your flesh. You were fuzzy once. I can't hold my breath. Putrescence fills my lungs with rotting death and my stomach turns upside down. Stumbling to fresh air I trip over your grinning, toothless nearly human face, spurting seemingly ceaseless blood from its masticated mind. It is only attached to the torso. I can see where your legs should be and your are trying to drag yourself through the dirt towards me clawing with your twisted fingers. Trailing entrails, half emptied. Fully feeling. I'm lying in bed. Sunken eyes wide open. All I can smell is rotting flesh. I'm peeking down my hallway now, and I see many mangled hands, reaching from every doorway. Burned, bruised, and beaten. I sprint down the passage frantically throwing pentagrams like ninja stars through thresholds. I hear sizzling like morning roast drips onto coffee burners, and I explode into the kitchen. "Good morning! Coffee is ready," Mother greets me, smiling. The hallway is dead silent.
My nightmares are always so... real Happy Halloween!
#nightmare#gore#halloween
gigi-tiji
Written by
gigi-tiji
Panamanian
Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 6:49 AM UTC
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