A Zombie Lives Under My Bed
The fear in his eyes,
the pain in his voice,
I had to stay with him,
there was never a choice.
whispering secrets in my ear,
a whispering of a secret fear.
Oblivious to any given reality
of abandonment, abuse or of depravity.
a secret fear,
burns silently,
thoughts fall from his mind,
creating air flow,
around his embers,
the flames take hold,
they consume,
they contort,
they exhume,
they distort,
they drive him to the edge of sanity.
A mangling of credible,
a mixture of acceptable,
fear,
an acheivable horror,
to easily overlap,
to bind blind reality.
That which he can not switch off,
that which consumes his soul.
Then when he fears that all is lost,
he comes to me,
he hears my voice,
he has a choice,
and I hold him like never before.
Sleep comes to him,
in waves ,
salvation,
for now.
Copyright © Gary Gene Linney | Year Posted 2015
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