They're Coming

Each sound igniting fear into your heart.
The world momentarily disappearing as you realize it's the sound of your own twitching fingers.

Only dark surrounds the opera of your life.
Starting out a sweet familiar song turning slowly into breaths
so loud and horrored your blood becomes the television.

Photos of quiet rememberance.
Steps surrounding each turn taken.
Screams chill your ears with unreason.

Boom Boom Boom.
Not the adrenaline rushing into your brain... your chest's rise and fall.

Dizzy waves of celsius.
Cold then hot.
Safe then falling.
Casting each shadow.. but there's not light. Shadow but no lights.

A cold fresh wind washing over you but only the open soul of the person directing your death dance.
Your toe bumping the ground, but for how long?
How long... the whisper inside your head every blink... movement of your unseeing eyes.

Are you blind or just born into this darkness?
It rains but you know it's not water.
It floods but isn't wet.
Masking you with childish fright. Coming inside.
An inner war against the evils.
Slowly inhabiting each root of you. Who you are.

Once again the whisper... the caving desires of humanity.
How long?
Then, humanity has never existed but in your own mind.
Tired so tired. But rest... in this world, rest is what kills.

I musn't sleep your cracked lips utter.
Licking them with a tounge as desolate.

Your legs like fire moving only to have your mind screaming stop!
Crazy. I'm crazy.

The silence driving you to psychopathia. Heavens open up rarely in your eyelashes.
Sometimes streaming sincerity into facets of truth.

I'm crazy. Each time your whispers reach to wet bricks of integrity.

Not taught not touched.

Death in every sweet, sweet thought you hold.

The key dangling from your neck.
String it touches your legs.
Just like mommy said.

The beginning of the end sweet darling. You run away.
That never happened.
Little mind making stuff up.
Made your life inside of knowledgeless wisdom.

No room in this spidery cycle... never stopping.

Your desire the lights... like not being able to breathe.
Death so comely but oh so terrifying... like the smell of matches you'll never see.
Stand too long... time steals your soul.

It drops tonight, I think.
This is the end.

Stand up to face the dwellers of no light.
The meaning here.
This evil so thick only dense heartless fog was doomed.

Your aching bones brittle and weak stand across this millenium of confusion.

It's drawing your screams like the haunted.
It hurts.
The hurt inside casting lots on length of your days.
How could they do something like this?

Weaving through your lungs.

Sweeping the listless words up in their own pockets.
Buttoning your letters scraggly and useless into important little pencil cases.

The lead stabbing every heart-wrenching thing you've been through.
Holding your hope as a trophy of victory smashing it down hard as possible.

The little shards into your eyes under your feet.
Bouncing off your clothing.

Mumbling.

Scampering around looking for answers.
Hiding beneath their hat your long forgotten questions.

Smeary eyes crooked veins.

Your own waging echoing back to terrify the knuckles in your hands.

A tree, each little crack and stage a map of where you once stood then ran.

Run you did.

You were afraid.

Standing up you don't run this time.
But that's your mistake.

How long you whisper all the way back at the start. How long?