cursory glances sent in his direction
gawking at the inky purple hue swirling beneath his skin
an elixir to conduct electricity in the brain
initiating sympathy & pity.
he continues his traipse
through a woodland
dense
sloshing through pools of water
murky
scrutinizing only one mortal being
their fists splattered in his blood
he is drawn to them.
slowly, he lets his fingers pass over the
dusky
elevated bump
adorning his delicate skin.
he needs them
he wants them
no matter the cost.
he advances upon them,
smiling up at them with his iridescent teeth
suddenly, his gums are empty
a deep red pouring from his mouth
oozing down his chin & neck;
"i love you"
he whispers to himself
still looking at them
as if they were God himself.
d.n.
YOU ARE READING
breathe {poetry}--
Poezjathis is not poetry it is emotion in its purest form; words
