Her mottled skin
her bloodshot eyes,
bulging grotesquely
in surprise.
Supine, staring
at the ceiling,
blood is pooling
now congealing.
Silken stocking
round her neck,
tied bow like
to bedeck
As the days
drift quietly by,
decomposition
makes her high.
Then at last
as she is found,
a throttled gasp…
and screaming sounds.
Comments
maggyvaneijk | November 24, 2010 - 16:00
Macabre indeed! I definitely want to know more :)
Bradene | November 24, 2010 - 16:05
Glad it whet your appetite, I quite enjoy writing these little bites of the neck (;Valx
Oldwarrior | November 24, 2010 - 19:19
Well done! Macabre to say the least. Sounds a lot like my Hallowen poetry. Thanks for sharing, I am new to the site starting today.
Write on.
Bradene | November 25, 2010 - 12:46
Thanks oldwarrior, Welcome to ABC. Hope to read some of your work soon. Val