Small ComfortsHer fingers tighten on the carving knife
as her eyelids open, as her fragile life
sways in the balance like an old balloon –
Ten past five - and morning soon.
Her heart’s still beating from their sickly grins,
from their yellow teeth and their flabby skins
from the snap-snap-snap of their slimy jowls
and the midnight hiss of skeletal howls.
Before she can rest her weary head
she’ll take one more look beneath her bed
just to check there’s nothing there -
just a yellow, blank-eyed stare.
as her eyelids open, as her fragile life
sways in the balance like an old balloon –
Ten past five - and morning soon.
Her heart’s still beating from their sickly grins,
from their yellow teeth and their flabby skins
from the snap-snap-snap of their slimy jowls
and the midnight hiss of skeletal howls.
Before she can rest her weary head
she’ll take one more look beneath her bed
just to check there’s nothing there -
just a yellow, blank-eyed stare.
2 comments:
I don't think I should have read that just before bed time.
Oops!
you have a carving knife, though ;)
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