horror, Poetry

Trapped

 

a hollow sound resonates now
when i brush my knuckles on my bedroom walls.
an absent echo floods my ears
like bleach. discarded snowflakes
flutter to the ground
as i claw and scratch.
the woman behind the walls
screams in terror as I try in vain
to free her. she wails like a banshee
but my efforts are futile.
each labored breath mirrors mine,
her feminine scent rotten and faded
the room smothered in grime.
her last breath brushes my cheek
as the room remains quiet once more.

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s