The Door

Tick tock sick sock
whispers from shadow trees
nails scrape against centurion windows
though still and silent
the chill in my spine
the kill in my mind

tick tock sick sock
heartbeats from downtrodden floorboards
secret wooden doors open and close
like loose shutters in the wind
the flies in my eyes
the ties in my hands

tick tock sick sock
no monsters aren’t under the bed
no monsters aren’t in the closet
no monsters aren’t from the shadows
the door is open wide
the gore is inside me

tick tock sick sock
I did not do this
<kill>
I know of a door
<kill>
I am innocent
<kill>
the demons crowd and petrify
the remains in a hole

tick tock sick sock
through the door
to be the devil’s whore
let this be no more.

***
Hey all, here is poem 13. The prompt was to write a spooky poem. I don't normally rhyme but for some odd reason, I like rhyming spooky/horror poems. I think it is this weird juxtaposition between rhyming and creating a sing-song cadence, which is more child-like against the subject material. And I just made that up to sound smart. I don't know why I rhymed. The poem felt like it needed to. I was going to write last night but I was exhausted. However, I did spend time thinking about it.

Now, I have to write like the wind to catch up for Camp Nanowrimo and try to write at least two chapters for Suburban Vampires.

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