I remember going to the park last night.
The stars shined so bright against the sky
Glowing.
But the clouds soon came
Plop. Plop
I’m trying to run but I can’t move on
Stuck in this cave-I know they’re coming
I gotta run! I yell
But these cursed feet are glued to the ground.
It’s sickening
I’m so tired and scared-the stars are coming again
Flashing against the wall-they’re just so bright!
They look as if they’re trying to comfort me.
I gotta run, I gotta run!
But I hear the crunching sound of glass
Oh dear god, they’re coming again.
I’m screaming, trying to find a way out of this hellish place.
Staring at the stars and crying until I realize what they really are.
Here they come-I can see their hellish faces
Right now I don’t care about descriptions
I scream at the stars-I scream at them go away!
They seem to find that amusing.
I suppose that heroes and happy endings are too bright for these crude edges
YOU ARE READING
A Darker Edge
Mystery / ThrillerNobody seems to notice the darker edges of imagination. They try to find it through suicide poems, I suppose. I think I might have just stepped on the line. And this is what I find **SLOW UPDATES**
