the inner child in bed whispers about fear |
Legend of The Boogie Man Haunting…not a description lies Underneath darkness and your sleeping eyes But a hand under bed, a grab in the night Inside of black, inside of delight. A ghost-man’s whisper, fainting slight… You feel his breath on your skin so white You feel his death and slender bite His tongue searching your breast, your lips, your chest…unable to rest Fearing quietly slither this creature of life. In his face is a hollow, a skeleton white… is a rotten monster under your bed, he is dead back to life. He is touching your eyes and sticking hands in your mouth He is ribs and he’s bones, and his teeth and his white shine Is glowing under moon eerie light. Your feet are hanging over the end. And the blanket has lost it’s trimmed safety net And he can touch you there. And touch you He can crawl onto them and smother you He is glue, he is a gel of bones slithering, a skeleton shivering As his laugh insane is sleething, screaming, GOT YOU Ripping, gripping, your blanket down Your bare legs, your flesh, he is your gown. He is sticking his bone skeletal fingers into your thighs And you feel this sticking and you look in-between the slits of your eyes You can’t scream you are being in his bone white…bone white He is the demon under your bed, in your closet, in your head… Crawling…your blanket is being thrown off, Your flesh is cold…shivering… You are his You are his You are his You are no more… |