Fear Holds Me In Her Grips
Afraid of what I might see next
I attempt to keep my eyes solidly closed
Until I hear them breathing down my neck.
Imagining the most horrible death scene for myself.
Until the most horrifying music comes into my soul ranks,
Shaking me and waking me, to temporarily gloat in my terror
My heart is pumping wildly, trying to waken the blood
But the blood sleeps on, insisting on retaining the nightmare.
The heart loves being scared to death.
It is one of her most pleasant activities, to prove she is alive.
She holds me hostage to the bed,
Reluctantly, I close my eyes.
I am prone, and cannot move anyway.
I wait for them to creep upon the bed.
I can hear them breathing. They will be harsh and horrible.
I am so angry at my traitorous heart, I try to scream.
Maybe the man in the next apartment will hear me.
Maybe he will send someone, before it is too late.
Something takes a huge bite out of my neck.
Dhrammn! It is too late already.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2019