She appeared,
as if someone had just flicked on a light,
pressed a switch and there she was.
Directly in sight.
Frightful features,
rotten skin,
boils and puss oozing.
Maggots feasting on her sightless face
where her eyes once sat in place.
And then she was gone.
Only there for a second,
but that image burned into my mind.
The wretched vision now stuck firmly behind
my eyelids, my dreams,
in my memories
and all the moments between.
What was seen can never be unseen.
Can never be washed clean.
The screams that echoed from her torn ripped throat,
can never be unheard, the gurgles that erupted into a choke.
Can never be unremembered.
As if she has a watch, she turns up
exactly at 3 on the dot,
As the clock chimes,
I hear her echoing wailing cries
and there she stands again.
Crooked neck, broken bones
pitiful moans, turn to dismal groans.
Her rasping voice sometimes croaks through,
just a word or two.
Then just as quickly she fades out of view.
Her words I write some nights,
when the fright has a tight grip on my heart
and I fear if I close my eyes
it will stop and never again restart.
Her words.
over many weeks I've managed to collect.
Help me. It was him.
The man that gave me lodgings.
3am, he entered my room,
his whisky-soaked voice boomed
and over me he loomed.
Wrapped a rope
around my throat.
pushed me from the top step,
my neck broke.
and now I can't leave.
Please help me.
I can't breathe.
I can't leave.
Thanks for reading
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