Bed Bugs

in poetry •  7 years ago  (edited)

Shadows cast their sinister slinky
Fingers dark, the ministers of
Sharp-edged fright, that rob me
Of my sleep tonight...

I clutch the covers close to me,
My shoulders hunched in fear,
At the nights' macabre intensity,
Its' fetid, cold proximity...

A craftily sliding inky-blot
Of blackness gliding spot-to-spot,
Assumes with each eye-blinking,
A thousand terrors, slinking, slinking...

Upon the shadow-ridden wall,
I see my fate is written, all
The night to spend till bitten,
By the bed bugs, waiting, hidden...

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They are the worst vampires of them all! Upvoting and following. Excellent write !!