horror

his tongue spits venom into my trembling bird bones-

whittles away from the inside out, progressing
intangibility to insomnia, hush dear and-

sleep, a hesitant rung above unconsciousness,
a land that none wish to dwell for
too long, fairytale monsters and twisted
whispers intertwine with synapses, leaving me
writhing and shaking and finished:
cold