Buried Alive

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: August 21, 2018

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Submitted: August 21, 2018



What sound does a heart make after it beats?

A shadow, a wind in the warm velvet pleats

Of a cavernous sponge, a barren relief

Life support mingled with love and belief


If it stopped, would I think on its echo of last?

Would lifeblood still whisper when trembling had passed?

If I lay ever still in my obelisk tomb

Would a memory crouch giggling in that red room?


The thought of you captures capillaries’ pulse

Smile, and my tendons you deftly divulse

Your teeth dry my breath and your eyelashes sweep

My sinews, my inner chest, frozen in sleep


After each night you fed me, my spirit was full

I reminisce, though I am packed now with wool

If all you prepared was for sustenance sake

Still, these glass eyes stay forever awake


If I could but stand I would fall to my knees

To beg, let this last hope of cognizance freeze

Yet I linger here somehow unable to dive

Abyss out of grasp, I am buried alive


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