My closet door always remain shut
when I was a little kid.
Black ink dribbled down walls
and pooled at the center.
Shadows curled around my clothes
and every time I stole a glance
at the closet.
I swore I saw something
slithering on the floor, moving.
Always on the move.
A pad lock was installed on the door.
As a little kid
I thought it would hold.
Over time I forgot
and soon closet monsters
weren't as terrifying
as what lied behind a human's mask
The pad lock was uninstalled
closet door always remind opened
filled to the brim with books and stuffies.
I wasn't afraid.
But, I didn't realise
it was still there
made a nest within
the cracks.
It waited.
YOU ARE READING
Dear: Hell
PoetryThe elevator broke now death played with you all night. - Hell's Deal ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Sometimes monsters are real, sometimes Hell is fictional, but both have impacted many lives. So, take seat with some coffee and enjoy this poetry collection.
