I'M Waiting To Begin

i walk unsteadily,
ready to pounce with every ounce of my being
onto whatever scares me
and through the dark corridor, i suppose it is infested
i hear the scattering of cockroaches;
the pattering of thousands of tiny feet
and in a nest sits a lit-up entity
an apparition like a silhouette behind a brick curtain
i know only i'm seeing it, i've become aware of this
i didn't get used to the dark, i just learned to live with it

here, i carry a knife i've had since the womb
there's blood on the tip
skeletons are screaming my name from the catacombs
and i'm waiting for a note to slip
beneath the walls or through the stones
they're decorated in dragons breathing fire
i want the ink to glow in the darkness
i want to feel leeches sucking at my skin
i want to feel the lovely sting of scorpions

i'll draw a window with my weapon
the blood leaks down the wall like it is fresh
though my blade has not touched flesh
in a while

i press my tongue against the blood
like sealing an envelope 
i've forgotten that feeling
and it feels like someone
it feels like something

the skeletons seem like my victims
their screams have become an annoyance
but it gives me a sense of security
like a protector would

within the walls are holes
and i peek inside
how have i not seen this?
what a normal thing to find in a place so old
inside them, i see glowing spheres
rocks? crystals? . . . eyes?
how have i not seen this?
what a strange thing to find in a place so old
the creature licks its lips
and out of mine slips,
"why don't we begin?"

Copyright © Ashlea Senft | Year Posted 2017

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