Laura Breidenthal Poet Free verse

My Incubus

Pounding at the resonant head 
of my chest—he of hunger 
latches his fangs just beneath my jaw—
not to sever silence, but to pummel poison.
Tissue parts with wet reluctance,
he with need more than malice
burrows into the larynx of what 
was once controlled, fearful sound.

Nameless, shapeless he who
with shark-possessed teeth does not ravage—
but infiltrates—peeling cartilage from confession,
mining marrow-thoughts clogged in
curse-traversed trachea.

I am a conduit split open—
voice extracted in ligaments,
fibrous and twitching,
stripped from the cords—


myofibrils separatus tendon.


Nameless, shapeless he!
How does he so musically reshape
what I cannot say? 
How does he gut syllables
I do not recognize—
yet still, convince me
they are mine?

With his guiding talons,
my breath comes out red,
heavier than blood—
tastes of steel-bitten soul—
boiled vowels
that never knew air
but somehow rise.

His incantation:
Spiritus somni!
Spits into my mouth—
a blessing—not! 
a summons—not!
but a shameful dream behind my teeth
like bruises that speak sermons.

Nameless, shapeless he…
He says I was never mute—
only sealed for some latter doomsday…
And now, with my throat laid open like a shrine,
he listens as I blaspheme 
my dream.

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Duke Beaufort April 19, 2025 at 11:01 AM Laura, I read your poem and I'm reading the comments. I imagine this does reflect something in your life. Only you can decipher it and I think you are on the right track. All fog eventually lifts and reveals what is really happening. Our minds are so wonderful at sending us messages, but interpreting them isn't simple. Welcome to the human condition! I am hoping you are not too stressed! BTW, as poetry this is wonderfully expressive. I think some of us who have been here for a while know your poetry is fantastic!! Laura Breidenthal April 29, 2025 at 2:09 AM Oh my life, my mind, is a perplexing puzzle and I appreciate your thoughts. I’m figuring out how to release stress in a healthy manner—but the demons—obviously rear their ugly heads. You’re kind to say it’s fantastic and not fantastically horrid! <3 Laura

Alesia Leach April 17, 2025 at 1:29 PM Laura, this is staggeringly powerful. Your words don’t just describe the Incubus--they become him. He pulses through every syllable, every anatomical unraveling. The imagery is raw and intimate, just haunting. And the way he reshapes her silence into something dangerous and bleeding… it’s like watching trauma try to speak for the first time and finding the voice isn’t even hers. Spiritus somni--what a chilling incantation to end on. This piece left me breathless. With admiration, Alesia Laura Breidenthal April 17, 2025 at 1:34 PM Alesia, thank you so much for your thoughts here… my incubus is a very real entity to me and I fear the trauma not only is pushing out to speak but the torn open nature of such a thing as he wishes to creat altogether new traumas. Reshaping silence is such a good way to put it… your insight is meaningful to me. I’m still reeling from this piece as it was born from a very intense night terror I had…not something easily forgettable or breathable <3 Laura

Justin Bordner April 16, 2025 at 12:33 PM A vicious kiss of restless revelation, a transition from victim to fearless truth, the shrine of your newborn wound illuminates the instrument of salvation...You become the omen nexus..."Tastes of steel biten soul...bruises that speak sermons..." Brilliant comingling of poetry, anatomy, soul, and dark desire Laura. To blaspheme your dream in the steam of His ritual becoming is such a magnificently macabre coinstrumentation. This fine poem is another masterpiece of your tender emotions...Justin Laura Breidenthal April 17, 2025 at 1:26 PM Humbled by your words, Justin. These words… the implications of shake me up like a looming omen…like crows circling the dead. To know you see the words as magnificent… is warming my wary heart. This poem was born from a night terror—alien lips meeting mine where the words whispered —spiritus somni— was whispered into my mouth and manifested something. I was trying to make sense of the incantation through this piece. This incubus is very real to me …All I know is that something is trying to seduce me out of silence.. but I’m quite stubborn. Much love and thank you for your valuable thoughts . <3 Laura Justin Bordner April 16, 2025 at 12:34 PM a masterpiece of the craft of your sensuous and wise soul...Justin A FAV!!!

Ink Empress April 16, 2025 at 9:02 AM Dear laura This is such a clever and creative poem! Your title brought me here and im impressed by your very sumptuous wordplay! Youv done an exquisite job delivering one that is so descriptive and soul hitting! I love every word in this especially felt the lines “ How does he gut syllables I do not recognize— yet still, convinced me they are mine?” Whoa that hits the soul just eloquently! So moving! Impressive write! Pleasure reading your poem today! Sending you light always Laura Breidenthal April 17, 2025 at 1:21 PM Thank you for reading this one, Ink Empress! That moment you quote is a question I’m still asking myself—this entity is very real to me… a means to break open or rather tear open—my silence. Thanks so much for your light—I surely need it. <3 Laura