Crash!
vibrations start to clash of the shatter
of old china falling.
Halls vacant, dust coated.
Mirriors all around
sounds of a party
whelps, wailing
glance, I see nobody
unsafe unsatisfied
brain boggled
eyes shut tight
tipping left to right
forceing my hips to turn.
Stomach rumbles then slighty churns.
My vision blurring
Cold sweating palms
Listen.
Can you hear?
the creaks, the squeaks, the tweaks
dragging myself across the floorboards
one
by
one
sluggishly I power up my fright
jumpy as a widow
ready to
Pounce.
1 comment:
You should read this one to someone late at night. My mama loves to tell the story of one night when she was 10, putting her hair in rollers at an old neighbors house, when she heard a noise outside the bathroom and was sure it was a ghost. It reminds me of your poem! Great imagery, especially with the sounds!
Post a Comment