Words for the Lost Ones

Dreams of Blood.

It was a long, and detrimental fight.

The thoughts lurking in the deep black of space,

The eternal night, the eternal sights,

Of the dark.

Those monsters.

Those visions.

Children crying, noses bleeding,

They kept me up.

I never felt the relief of sleep.

And even when I did sleep,

They came back and haunted me.

I was five.

In a long empty hallway, longing for another life.

But yet, it would never come.

I ran and I ran,

Still nothing would speak.

The perception of reality was missing,

But I had a feeling it was nearing.

Then I entered a big room,

Filled with monsters and ghouls.

Blood covered the walls,

And the snores of the creatures, my ears consumed.

The large, bloody piles of flesh,

They breathed and they spoke,

With the low amplitude of sound waves.

Calming me and putting me to rest.

"Hello,"

One said.

A monster, with the snore matching that of a kitten.

I walked to it; my shoes were covered in blood.

The red stains covered me head to toe.

With the soft voices telling me to stay calm,

I went and followed his voice.

I laid next to him,

The peace and the comfort enveloped me.

Telling me stories of love and affection,

Which I longed for, so dearly.

The deep, red, cuts in his skin,

They worried me, because he was my friend.

I asked him,

"Who is that over there?"

He said, "That's Him,"

And, "Don't go over there."

I knew what he meant, and every night I visited them,

I never went and talked to Him.

My bleeding friend,

His atrocious smile,

Filled me with joy,

And the thought that everything is alright.

Ages five to six, I awoke every time I closed my eyes,

To see my friend and to cuddle with him under the fabricated moonlight.

The fluorescent lights above us,

It didn't scare me.

I had someone to feel safe with,

And he had someone to love.