My fingers cannot
find any
purchase on
the slick shaft
of this
cell.
The greasy
walls of nightmares
have kept me
down here.
Dark and
cold in the forgotten
place. Damp,
dank and dingy,
in the
shadowed hole I sit.
Looking up
for a peek of the moon,
shining overhead.
The sliver of
silver, each midnight,
casting a
blade of lunar lumens,
down the
slippery walls of this
prison,
slashing across my light
blinded
eyes.
A nocturnal
being, tossing and
slipping in
the throes of terror,
squishing
between barefoot toes,
the refuse
of dreams; fuel for the
horrors of
long nights.
Thick foggy
breath, panting upwards
in clouds,
circling above my head,
disappearing
into the darkness of
the deepening
chills and fear gripping
at the hair
of my neck.
Shouts
unheard, voice long gone,
a muffled
whimper as ceaseless night
bares down keeping
pleasantries far
from mind
and hopes dashed, smoldering
ashes of wishes.
October, you
say? Ah… that.
No wonder.
What I relief!
I was
worried I was going mad.
It’s just
October. Nothing to worry about then.
Just the
typical October stuff to endure. Whew!
(whistles)
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