It is not my shadow that I fear
But the one who lures behind me;
The one who caresses my hair
Only to snatch it with force
And pull me in the basement
Where all the skeletons rot dry
And I am the only left breathing.
It is not my voice that I hear
But the one who calls my name;
The nickname my parents called
The name my friends created
The names I was bullied with
In a tune too frightening to forget
A song I never wish to remember.
It is not my hand I fear to feel
But the one who always disappears;
The one who wants to feel alive
Because she was dead for so long
Only to hold me strong enough
To push my soul away from my body
So that I’d be she and she’d be me.
It is not my nightmares that I see
But it is her waking me at midnight;
She turns my bedroom into a garden
Only to have the birds turn into vampires,
The trees transform to creatures with horns,
The breeze slashing me like a butcher,
She turns my mattress into a pool of blood.
It is not me but my hallucinations
She is the one who curses death
For entering the body of her husband
And betraying all love he had for her.
She died in his arms as he did in hers.
This house is her life while the knife
Will be whoever enters the front door.
|
Submission Name: You Entered the Front Door
