Bright
Blank halls greet me.
Whispers welcome me.
It’s dark.
A black figure is coming.
He looks dangerous.
I’m scared...
Never ending halls.
It’s dark...
The man is closer.
The whispers louder.
More demanding.
Make it stop!
There’s a knife.
It looks rusted.
I don’t care.
I’ll use it to leave.
In my chest the knife rests.
I see white...
It’s bright.
Copyright © Kennediey Gray | Year Posted 2017
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