Shh, listen.
Did you hear it?
Its disturbing echo
inching down your spine.
Its chilling breath at the
nape of your neck.
Snaking through my mind,
creeping in like fog.
Seeping through the floor,
spilling secrets like blood.
Sounds of a clock
muffled by cotton.
Cloaked, it hammers
growing louder.
Can’t you hear it?
The thumping it emits.
Shuddering through my frame,
suffocation, blame!
It’s growing louder!
Uttering secrets only I know.
Acute are the senses
that hear its woe.
Pounding away all thoughts,
persistent, Its haunts.
Shattering midnight it stalks,
nightmarish pillow talk.
It grows, my skin pales.
louder and louder it wales!
A dead man’s heart yells,
telling its tale.
Say that I am mad, do you?
If only you knew,
I hear things in hell, it’s true.
Don’t you hear it too?
Homage to Edgar Allen Poe's A Tell-Tale Heart
Copywrite 2013 Fall Aztec Literary Review, San Diego State University
