my teddy bear was woven with spider webs and stuffed with ideas of gore. the dolls i played with were like miniature demons, each with its own horrifying stare.
the house that i called home was built up with bricks of hatred and my playground was like a toxic wasteland. my friends were all inside my head (it's not like i'd have real ones) and they chanted out songs of death.
the bedtime stories my mother told struck my heart with fear. "fear and terror is what the world is made up of," she'd always tell me.
i suppose that's true. i simply learned it at a younger age than i should have.
YOU ARE READING
deflorationis
Poésiean anthology of short fictional stories that came from the darkest caverns of my mind, or perhaps were inspired by the sunniest of days. © Moonlitsadness, 2015
