Submissions by Nana_Ean

Scratch scratch scratch.
That itch at the back
of my unhealthy head. A Monster trying,
scratching, scratching, scratching
from the inside put my head.
It won't stop till I'm dead.

Curled up inside its room.
Twisting and turning like inside a womb.
Round and round it goes,
sitting in the 'embryo' pose.

Waiting.

Scratching.

Biting.
With its filthy mouth,
wanting to come out.

Unfortunately I've become that silhouette in the fog.
That strange creature, that unknown sound of the bog;
something or someone : a stranger, to you.
You've known me for a decade or two.
Yet, you couldn't understand me.

Breaking. Drifting. This was a slow mishap.
Now, there is just silence to fill this gap.
Even you have become, to me, a stranger.
Just a silhouette. A strange creature.

Transparent, fading. Our bonds have become
like fog that dissolves in the sun.

It has been a week
since you were buried
beside that little creak
under that slab of Concrete.
They sealed you beneath,
beneath the dirt. Six feet
under the ground. What caused 'em
to do that? You were just playing 'possum.

You said me, you were scared
of the needles, the doctor.
You played you part too well,i think.
Didn't breath, didn't blink.
Unmoving, sunken cheeks,
as if you died sick.
By now, you are dead. You died
in your coffin. Alone. Claustrophobic.

Are you lonely? Melancholy?
No, sir! Maggots a million...