8 05 2009

Dark have been my dreams of late, but reality is so tepid, I don’t want to wake.

At least the murderous nightmares are exciting. Last night I tracked down a rapist and slashed his face with a dagger and wrote his crimes on his countenance.

Anyways, that inspired this:

He sings a song that scratches against my nerves, like a razor on stubble

I sleep silent,
bones still.
Hear footsteps
toll down alleyways.

The rain drips and taps
its echoes across my ear drums.

I feel cockroaches skitter
on wire-thin legs
over stone streets.
Their shells are
smooth and clean –
a-glitter in lamplight.

I wander
in a labrynth.
Going deeper,
deeply lost.

The night stretches
and lengthens,
funhouse mirrors
reflect and distort
the flash of a knife.
It slashes and writes
on a hollow-faced eye.

Red is the only color.

I open my eyes for
the faraway light

and hear a fly.

Sudden sunlight
precise as a scalpel
and I am laid bare.

I close my eyes against
this sterile dawn,
slink toward the comfort
of shadows, of moonlight,
but the fly won’t land,
he keeps buzzing by.




One response

8 05 2009

eerie and awesome this poem is…..

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