There’s a man at my door.
He’s not moving anymore.
He just stares,
Icy blue and brown,
Through the concrete
At me.
There’s a man at my window.
He’s not breathing anymore.
He just taps,
Clicky clack and double rap,
Through the pane
To me.
There’s a man in my room.
He’s here with me.
He just stands,
Staring and stroking my cheek,
Through my skin,
Bleeding me.
Go see what’s new at The Perfectly Imperfect Bunch
Creepy. I like it! 🙂
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Thank you!
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