Its why I tucked my feet in at night;
lest some pallid swollen distortion
growing cocoonlike under the bed
brush my toes with a slow slimy sense organ
while tasting the air, and develop a craving;
hot breath reeking of other
less vigilant children
just the tiniest wet motion in the glutinous quiet
a gelatinous unfurling
and the dampened creak of bedsprings
as it moves its way puposefully
across the bars
beneath me.
Its why I still become eyes and fingertips
beneath a shield of cotton blend
when the steel frame contracts
I blame Ridley Scott
and some primitive
perhaps once quite useful
fear
that i still feel like
a small plump morsel
in the dark..
Author notes
didnt meet line minimum (30 lines)
didnt meet word bank minimum (30 words)
didnt put words used in notes as requested by contest runner
sometimes i just cant meet the rules
Comments
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I used to have a cordon of polyurethane and when possible fuzzy animals to protect me from such horrors. Now...only the covers. I often wonder if my sanity peaked at 7 years of age.
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I need you to make this poem one line longer to meet the 30 line minimum rule. and you need to put all of the words you used in the word bank in your AN
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Oooh, nicely done. The descriptions...the terror...everything! Good luck with the contest!
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