they laughed

you heard them laugh

you heard them laugh downstairs

and as you heard the laughter that night it was there

it was there in your room, large, dark

it forced its way in – snarling

you lay – quiet still scared

reaching back it uncurled its spindly large jointed fingers, clawing – frenetically clawing – ripping what was there, shredding what had been, taking what it could

you felt each scratch, the wounds rough edged, soon septic

it squatted, waited – and you could feel it waiting

you flinched as it lashed out occasionally, wrestled others for your heart, pulling you away from them

it never slept but watched – and you could feel it watching

you couldn’t see behind it, knew there were fragments there, sensed them, half remembered, were unable to bring them into focus

you caught glimpses of its shadow as you lived, as you loved

until it rose, limbs flailing, kicking, punching, screaming – breaking you





About loveandgarbage

I watch the telly and read when not doing law stuff and plugging my decade and a half old unwatched Edinburgh fringe show.
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  1. Pingback: Some personal posts | Love and Garbage – some commonplace musings

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