I'm lonely,
That is, until the voices come;
Slowly they seep and drip,
And slither through the walls,
To pry at the mortar of my mind.
YOU ARE READING
TEDDY BEAR HEADS
HorrorThis collection of dark poetry and flash fiction wants you to come and play. After all, even the things that live in the dark get lonely . . .
2-ALONE
I'm lonely,
That is, until the voices come;
Slowly they seep and drip,
And slither through the walls,
To pry at the mortar of my mind.