So many ghosts
Possessing
my memories
Too many
I am speaking Latin
almost constantly.
***Poetry break
Why do demons only speak in Latin?
what did they do before,
just wander aimlessly, depressed
unable to possess,
"Oh, however will we possess thee,
Someone get me a Latin to English dictionary"
End of poetry break***
So many ghosts.
They linger in my home
Making my bones creak,
making me feel weary, sick and weak.
Only so much air in my lungs to shriek.
So instead, I shiver and shake,
quake in terror at what could await,
pull up the duvet, if I can't see them,
they can't see me.
These ghosts lurk,
irksome beings
that loom in the dark,
Just to feed me with words
I don't need to hear
Like my head is empty.
Yeah indeed.
As if I need
another set of voices
to talk amongst this
already crowded
nighttime chorus.
The memories
stain every surface
Ectoplasm
must be a phantasm,
Trying to take advantage
of the aching
cavernous chasm
that has
Become vacant
in my head.
Look can't you just fuck off.
I want to be asleep in my bed.
Take your chains and your sheets,
Your woo's and the floorboard creaks,
and leave me be.
Go and haunt a tory instead.
Thanks for reading
No comments:
Post a Comment