a poem of loneliness and thoughts that haunt...a poem that is not my own...

(totaly not written in my style!! what have i written? but worth a post anyway)


sure,
and I am bored
by my own, struggled
company.

that which/witch
like Screams
shuddered lull-abies

rapping of dotty teeth-rip nails
to air

Very Very
quiet

save that
awful sound track
squatted in yellow to green
infested
cloggy most deaf
more dumb ears

that wolves
would howl to/o.

sleep, i will,
while ghosts make
NOISE
at door handles
and freeze my restful
motion.