Horror Poetry - Blog Posts

Germany Gothic

- there are many fields of flowers. Pick yourself, the sign says. Leave money in box. Leave the money in the box. Bring a knife, not scissors for the flowers. Do not use the one supplied, you don't want your fingerprints on it.

- The playground is empty after eight. Empty. Don't be convinced otherwise. She's not there, the playground is empty.

- If you have a problem, do not approach the teacher watching over the children. Do not approach the mother of three. Smile and greet them, but approach the child waiting behind them. They are the ones truly guarding the children. They will help you. Their guardians guard something different.

- Some time ago, men in brown shirts stole people from their houses. These houses are marked with gold, but not by us. We only know not to step on the gold. The stolen people will not haunt you, the neighbours that watched will.

- This buildings is old, he proudly says. They survived the wars. You smile. You do not asked why they survived. The houses know your question, they grin. Ask them later, he doesn't know.

- A soccer field's lights are always on. People are always playing. Don't approach them; you don't know who they are playing against. Pray they win every night.

- The beggar is not hungry. Not for food. Be kind, and they will ask their price from someone else.

- If you are lost, don't ask the police officer. Ask the street musician. The oldest person in the city doesn't remember a day without that saxophone sounding through the streets. Music is a hobby for many species, and they know better than you where you came from.

- trust the fields. They have seen young girls safely pass. If it calls to you, answer it.

- avoid the people smiling at you, the ones with bright eyes and pretty scarves. No one has seen them here before. Walk beside the ones in grey and black who stare forward, never meeting your eyes. Trust me, they are watching you. If they do meet your eyes, they are telling you you are in danger.

- The bus driver is your friend. The security camera in the back of the bus is not.

-You do not talk to the person in the seat next to yours on the bus. Do not ask them where they're going. Do not ask where they need to get out. Humankind may have buried body language a long time ago, but it will serve you well now.

You don’t see the decay at first

Not at first glance nor the second, no you pass your lives through with silly little tasks

every morning you walk to work, sunshine bright enough to disguise that which you don’t see, certain patches of day seem dull as you walk by the pastry shop, colors bleeding, no longer true to form where they meet

the talons of light grasp signs and bruise the colors darker than you remember

you keep walking

you look down

you do not see

at night you laugh with your family, smile fondly as a book or chuckle at the news. Curled before the blaze you can block the chill of the void leaking in through your window pane.

The almost too close burn in your shins drowns out the whispering, the bright dancing cheerful orange distracts you, pulling your attention, away from the silvered, hungry smile with spindly teeth grinning just past your periphery where it waits for you to notice

you keep watching

you look down

you do not see

at midday! You lunch with your love, discussing mundanity and boredom to fend off themselves sipping sweet wine with a bite and licking drops of fat off your fingers as they’ve dropped from your meal

The savory oil coats your tongue and for a moment your thoughts are not your own, a flash of True Hunger grips you, an impulse to consume, devour, tear and rend to satiate your hunger with the cat you’ve caresses in a moment of love you want to grip and bite in a frenzy of feeding

but you blink

you look down

you do not see

you blink again

You do see, but now? They See Too

Untitled (warning: gore, war)

Metallic petrichor grows into my lungs

As reverse-aged wine flows into a blood sea.

Trauma stains the Earth,

Unresolved cruelty bleeding

Into the forest floor.

The moss cannot process fast enough,

Becoming a crimson-dyed carpet,

Sponging out vermillion blood.

Penisneud

"You were born broken."

"That is your birthright."

-Beatrice Horseman

I was born small, swollen, and suffocated

Ive grown ten times in size

But alls the same

That ends the same

I edge near suffocation

When my partner suffocates me

To take the edge off me

Squeze harder please, it feels better for me

I want desperatley to be grateful for my life

And not swell myself on food and folly

I want to be small, carried by you

Why am I so small if im so big?

You tell me you love me all the same

But I'd change it anyday, anyway I could

If I could I would carry a wood worth its name

Instead it is life that is hard

And longing...

Terror.

Blur on a black screen not blank

As if electricity still itches

Under its glass skin

A glossy glimpse of my eyes

I long for a longer time

As I look into my own eyes

I see the wires

Vessels of blood and butchery

Bathing in that black

They anticipate a world beyond my own

When I let go of my life

Awoken

I never remember to brush my teeth

Until im back on the chair again

I cannot retreat under bright florescent light

Gingivitus

Invites the worst thoughts in me

Pulling decay from me

Sawtooth away

Surgical like a syringe

Blood is drawn

Steel spider

Crawling deeper in my mouth

Bated breath for viscous liquid

I cant swallow

Pain awakens me to my mortality

A specimen in a jar

Waiting to die but im already dead

Like roadkill in a jar

The man

A man who could so easily kill you, torture you until death. Lulls you into eating his food.

For what need is there to tamper.

You eat the first bite, savoring it deeply, then start gorging on the rest like a ravenous pig. Your appetite is insatiable. You're starved.

But after a while, you start feeling dizzy and nauseous, your limbs feel weak, like a puppeteer has let go of the strings. And there he stands, laughing at you. Enjoying every moment. It was never about killing you swiftly. He wanted to see you suffer and, at last, finally drop your guard and give in to temptation. A gift from your captor that you accepted oh so graciously. His laughter echoes in your mind until your last breath.