Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Tap, tap, tap, upon the windows frame,
scratch, scratch, scratch, upon the door it came,
I hear the scraping on the cabin floor outside my door,
I hear the hooves as they loudly fall and,
the heavy breathing not that far at all,
but when the little girls voice does come from behind my door,
she does say please kind sir,
be a friend and let me in, so i can get my doll.
The smell of fowl milk and trash does waft across the midnight breeze, and then I hear the scream,
as I realize I forgot to lock the bedroom door,
and that was the last night I was evermore.
Written by Micheal Robert Triska in 2023
Keith Strand Feb 2020
Who am I
But a piece of you?

In fields of rye
Lies become true.

A skinwalker
I stalk the night

I silently saunter
Between wrong and right

Your face is mine
For I miss my own

Straight down the line
Pain is sown
Skinwalkers are Native American folklore, they steal the skin of animals (including humans) and lure other creatures in so they may **** and steal more skins.

KK

X
M Grant Teague Dec 2019
Slip into control Satan.
Take my rising rage
And pressured passion.
It is wasted and hated
By those I entrusted.
I am standing alongside
My own corpse and it is time
Someone else used it.
I don’t remember the death
But my own magic is missing.
I need your fangs to dig deep
Seep the venom into my veins
The white purity has led to pain.
At least with you I know
That is what will come.
And It is my choice.
I tire of promises ****** in my face like salvation.
It is horseshit.
I will never rebuke God
But the toxic teachers of the church
Have led me to this tragedy.
SJ Apr 2015
It starts with a pinch and an itch,
Between your shoulder blades,
Trickling down your spine like a bead of sweat.
You groan hot and heavy,
Doubling over in pain clutching at your stomach,
And you have this urge....

Your canines enlarge,
Further sharpening.
The hairs on your arms bristle.
Standing on end when you hear the first tear of skin,
At the base of your spine.
And it splinters your mind.

A wine high pitched and wanting,
A gasp as your hair thickens.
A pelt of fur to keep you warm,
There is pain between your eyes,
Your jaw stretches inhuman and ugly.

Legs snap and your squatting on the floor,
Arms pulled close at the elbow,
Back hunched over.
Dirt digs under your fingernails turned claws,
As you grip the steady earth for purchase.
You feel your heart beating against your shifting ribs.
Strong,
Fast,
And aching.

Lungs constrict and your eyes fly open.
Blinded by the ethereal light of the full moon.
You cry out,
Human voice bellows loud, loud, loud!
The beast sings in your ear.
A roar,
A howl.
The transformation done.
We are free.
Some times a want to shed my skin for a pelt of fur...

— The End —