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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Thriller/Suspense · #618708
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…
© Copyright 2003 Jaimesen Chayse (jmsn at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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