Creatures

It baffles me still that their teeth are so perfect-white with nice, flat edges
And their eyes and smiles bright, their faces so filled with life
But on their breath is the smell of blood
And they carry with them only death
Their presence in my psyche summons the creatures of the night that howl and scratch and cause madness
They are my poison and none could taste so sweet
The blood on their breath is mine, and I gave it gladly
And the death they carry too, not in my dying but in my failure to live
For them
The demons they summon live in me
That I might not be blinded by the light of day

This entry was posted in Poems and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *