Thursday, May 25, 2017


in the darkness
sits a shadow,
a ghostly relic
refusing to be forgotten,
waiting patiently
as the night hours
fall upon me,
the sweetest kinds of miseries
of mine,
pressing its long pointy finger
against my head
it pulls out
all my many fears,
horror fills my face
and its toothy grin grows,
getting what it wants
it crawls backward
from whence it came
and waits patiently
once again
for another delicious drip
of anguish, exhausted
my terror turns to despair
and I quickly rest my eyes
falling back into the dark void
where it again fills with my many agonies,
It knows this as well
and again
from the corner
I can hear
the giddy clicking of its toothy grin.
-Armando Torres