The walls would bend
and the shadow things would scream,

and you asked me
would it be all right?

But the blood would run
up the stairs and pounding through

my temples and the floors
would undulating breathe

and my diaphragm would red hot open,
and I would shriek wild with the shadows

and fly with the ghosts of murders
yet to come.

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byoneiria© 2 comments/ 1537 views/ 0 favorites

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