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Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #2064632
Dark poem about dark thoughts coming to life.
They visit me
I didn’t make them
I mean I didn’t make them...real
But in the shadows
The dark doorways in the hall
The dripping in behind the shower curtain
The goblins tap against the windows
Witches whisper in your ear through the covers
I didn't make them real
I mean I didn't make them...live
But they walk
They stalk
They talk
They follow me
They only show their their shadows
Only sound out in a ghoulish role call
I didn’t make them live
I mean at least I didn’t make them...breath
But the demon’s breath scalds my outstretched hands
Imps mutter and stutter in my closet
Beasts growl outside my door
My own breath is taken from my lungs
I didn’t make them breath
At least... I didn’t think that they would...
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