The haunted

I do not believe in ghosts.

Nor zombies.

Nor werewolves.

I am pretty sure vampires were designed by cruel imaginative fools explaining why their neighbors are eating raw meat as a design of sick witch hunting.

Yet I close my eyes and there in the shadows is a figure of a man and whom’s eyes devoured my heart, while I lose all sense of reality.

I shiver as I notice a glimpse of a face with a pleasure dripping from his eyes as my heart beats louder I fall deeper into this guy’s impure allure.

Leave me, don’t mark me.

Release me shadow whose solid wrapped around my mind.

Get your Neverhands off my heart that I may be grounded to reality.

When I purposely think of you not, there in the shadows are those hideous eyes. Massive fangs. Paws off my weakness.

Absorb no more my courage to survive; better yet, find your master.

Hunchback my dreams no more.

That my dreams may be sweet, and your life untwine mine

I usually don’t bite, but for my sake I shall tear to shreds that shadow if I see it again, no, no mercy for heartless sake that which not had compassion for me.

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