Translucent

 

Faded view,

I can see through you.

Translucent skin

lets the light flow through.

You stand in the corner of the room

every night.

You enter through the wall,

never the door

which is its intended use.

 

Every night at around 3,

you visit me,

I can barely see you.

Transparent illusion,

vision true or untrue.

No squeaking doors or creaking floors.

No sound marks your entry,

you just float in

wearing clothes from a different century.

 

Your flowing dress blows in unreal winds,

rippling like a lake, though the room is still.

You cry, a silent mournful cry.

Holding your belly,

fear crosses your eyes.

I watch in silence from my bed.

Not afraid,

just quietly listening to the thoughts in my head.

 

You are there to wander the house again.

Glassy, like a steamed-up windowpane.

Why do you stop at the foot of my bed?

Then hang from my ceiling,

filling me with dread.

Is this the place

that the wicked deed was done?

Hung from the neck

you couldn't run.

 

 

Thanks for reading

https://linktr.ee/Wordsandfluff 

 

Please follow the link for my books, videos and social media.

 

Every click, every book purchase, every like helps me to keep doing what I love.

 

Peace, Love and Poetry 

 

Kyle

 

 

Taphophobia

 

I awaken.

Pitch black,

no light penetrates my eyes.

I try to move, my body cries.

Cramp grips limbs

and twists.

Arms crossed over my chest,

a sharp sting aches my wrist.

 

I try to move,

get some feeling to dead legs.

Pins and needles,

throbbing head.

Arch my back,

head hits a solid surface instead.

Lungs struggling for breath.

Tentatively I stretch my arm,

Bang

I hit a wall sturdy and firm.

 

Feel cold wood against my skin,

It's so cramped and closed in.

I wish I could spread,

claustrophobia ringing alarms in my head.

Straining arms,

muscles popped and ripped,

I try to push.

Nothing.

Not an inch.

 

My strength is sapped,

I can't find a way out.

I'm stuck here trapped.

It suddenly dawns.

Buried.

I’m buried.

Breathing too hurried,

deep underground.

Six feet.

Enough to muffle any sound.

 

My face sunken and dry,

dusty tears all I can cry.

Fingernails all bloodied,

ripped apart torn open.

Splinters torment skin,

shredded and broken.

Blood matted face,

scrapings of wood stuck in place.

Bones feel abused and underused,

cold against my body,

battered and bruised.

 

I hear Rustling,

this must be 

my brain playing tricks on me.

Nothing could be creeping in the darkness already.

What if they were here before?

Is this what I have in store?

On my bones these critters will gnaw.

 

Feel something crawl over skin.

How long have I been in this thing?

Is it real or imagination?

Irritated by dehydration.

Dried up insides corrode,

choking cough explodes.

Hunger pains deep inside,

lungs inflamed.

Bang... bang... bang...

On the lid.

Sound amplified.

Bang... bang... bang...

On the walls.

From the top of burning lungs,

I scream,

just dusty air and my heart playing drums.

 

I shout

but now the air is running out.

I can't keep up with this onslaught,

my body is too weak, frail and fraught.

I close my eyes,

maybe after a little sleep

I'll feel more able to rise.

 

Eternal gloom, is that my fate?

All I can do now is wait.

How long I've been here,

there is no way to know.

No moonlight or sunshine

to give us a clue.

Just darkness.

No clocks.

Darkness.

Stuck in this man-sized box.

 

 

 

Thanks for reading

https://linktr.ee/Wordsandfluff 

 

Please follow the link for my books, videos and social media.

 

Every click, every book purchase, every like helps me to keep doing what I love.

 

Peace, Love and Poetry 

 

Kyle

 

Ash

 

How did I get here?

The smell of ash

tickling my nasal cavity.

Woodland creeping around my feet.

My last memory,

entering that pub in retreat.

It was a stormy night,

winds were whipping

knives of rain into my face,

in cold hateful spite.

 

Then the memories blur.

I can taste the atmosphere there,

the scent of cigarettes and stale beer.

But the images don't seem complete.

They have a haze,

the feint swirl of heat waves

you see on sunny days.

 

She sat smiling at me,

a fiery wicked grin.

Waved me over for a drink or three.

Me on beer, her on gin.

Something devilish in the way

she held her drink,

as for me the room started to sway.

 

I was intoxicated,

Not afraid.

Yet...

My inhibitions

left like a strand

threads all frayed.

So, we talked. I slurred,

words I'd never heard myself say.

I was under a spell.

her unknowing prey.

 

She told how the hours coasted,

she mentioned ghosts.

Whiskey chaser, she toasted,

the liquor burned my throat.

Unease blazed.

Something in the way

she whispered my name.

Like she was playing with a candle flame.

Feverish thoughts sizzled through my head.

This was a nail in my coffin

I just hadn't sensed it yet,

her claws were in deep

and the blood ran hot and wet.

 

Her name, she said,

Enya.

Meant fire.

Ignited fear,

I was getting hot,

I needed to retire,

get out of here.

This all felt off,

I was like a horse at a trough,

the drink wasn't quenching my thirst,

like a water main had burst

and I was getting dust instead.

 

On top of my hand, she placed her own.

Hot to touch, 

like a poker heated by hells own firestones.

Then the images melted away.

Along with her face.

Skeletal remains.

I legged it from the place.

 

I awoke in dread.

Alone.

In a flowerbed,

with what can only be described

as a thunderous head.

I looked around.

No sound to help me get my bearings,

no light to illuminate my way

home.

Just silence,

the essence of dead things.

Alone.

 

I staggered to my feet,

wearily wobbling with each step.

A burnt old newspaper

swept on the breeze.

Dated 20 years previously.

That grin in newsprint,

those eyes burning into me.

Headline stated, all dead.

Fire burned the place to the ground.

No sound.

Fire burned the place to the ground.

All dead.

What was her name

Enya.

It meant fire

She said.

Her skeletal remains burned into my head.

 

 

Thanks for reading

https://linktr.ee/Wordsandfluff 

 

Please follow the link for my books, videos and social media.

 

Every click, every book purchase, every like helps me to keep doing what I love.

 

Peace, Love and Poetry 

 

Kyle