Third Night’s Haunting

by Noise Pollution

Okay, so I’m sure this is poetry 101 and super-cliche or whatever but I wrote a poem using gothic horror monsters as a metaphor. So yeah. Here you go.

I still see it
your pointed teeth
across the room
pointed at me
the tragic tale
you tell yourself
you lick the wounds
I made myself
and suck them clean
my blood so thin
my veins so light
like heroin

And I can still feel your teeth
sinking in, so cold
every time I slide this blade
I hold

and I still see it
the rotting flesh
just like your clothes
peeling off your chest
you frighten me
when you move so fast
this life you have
it cannot last
so I take aim
at the light of dawn
I see your face
but you’re already gone

And I can still see your breasts
pressing into me
every time I see the letters

I still hear it
the lupine shriek
your creaking bones
is this the change you seek?
A rush of forest air
a chill crawls down my spine
you said things stayed the same
for too much of the time
but I’m afraid of change
and I’m afraid of you
If I don’t stay this way
I don’t know what I’ll do

and I can still hear your voice
as it screams out to the moon
when I do what I always

I’ve lost a lot of blood
for you.