White sheet

 

Saffron coloured sunrise

pierces the sapphire sky

as I blearily wipe my eyes.

Too many late nights.

Too many bad dreams.

I speak to my empty room

but I know it isn't empty.

The ghost of you

looms in my view.

 

You are always there,

trying to scare,

but I've become

attuned to your spooky

attire, the scraps that you wear,

the frights you wish to inspire.

I've become aware.

The shouts of fear

you wish to admire,

now no longer

leave my throat.

I'm not scared, 

my heart doesn't race

At the sight

 of your maggot infested face,

Your white cloth sheets

or the chains that creek.

 

It's become 

a bit tired, 

cliché even

I mean really.

White sheets

went out of fashion

back when Pac-man was young.

You need to move with the times.

Climb from my TV,

hang from the ceiling,

do that creepy spider-walk thing.

If you really must try to scare me so,

at least try to put on a show.

I've seen worse things 

on a Saturday night,

Had bigger frights

outside the kebab shop

with the dated neon lights.

 

Take some inspiration,

I've been giving enough clues.

You've been watching

the same movies that I do.

I have felt your eyes burning

into the back of my neck,

your cold hand clinging

to mine at a scary bit.

So, use these images as a guide,

if you really want

to scare me out of my head.

Make it a terrifying ride,

not a fairground ghost train,

that should have been left dead. 

 

 

Thanks for reading

Please take a look at my new collection "Torn Pages"

100+ all new poems not shared here before.

https://tinyurl.com/KCtornpages

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Peace, Love and Poetry 

 

Kyle