It feels as though I'm gone.
Not far away or there to stay,
But something dark and wrong.
It smiles up from where it sat,
Knelt down behind the bed.
It laughs through teeth, It lives on grief,
It's eyes still flaming red.
I'll pull the sheet up over head
And sit as still as stone. But in the dark,
Where blood hounds bark,
It smells my blood and bone.
It crawls upon the wooden frame,
Though I'm still covered up.
It taps its nails - the eyes that swell,
And bulge like two white cups.
It whispers out across the bed
"Afraid of what you'll see?"
I'll nod my head, but move instead
Below the bed to sleep.
Down here I'm safe, all locked away
Well far from nasty things.
But then I hear that awful scream,
And rotten, flapping wings.
It pulls me out, held by the leg
And drags me through the dark.
The closets mouth, torn open wide,
Smells blood just like a shark.
Teeth explode from drawers left out
And clothes take a on a shape.
I'd seen it once, from far away,
That dead and dream-like state.
Those arms, the ribs, the pale white eyes
That reach and claw and pull.
They want me there, they want to sting,
And stab and rake me full.
Now what? What now? You've got your blood.
What more have I to give?
It wants , it yearns, it needs the lie,
Whispers "I want to live."