The Moon Lives in the Sea of Nightmares

I’m afraid of the moonlight

that cast the bloodied monsters across my walls, 

their legs drawn out

like mummified spiders,

crystal liquid DDT in their exoskeletons,

that whispers about the angelic graveyards

with broken nets and wooden fishing rods,

their thin threads tangled and confused

starving souls like star crossed lovers,

and leaves a thick layer of bitter sweetness on my lip,

blistering and bleeding,

healed by the paths of silver salt.

And it comes back to haunt me every night, 

unable to penetrate that darkness that runs 

so deep.

And if I tell myself the monster will go away, 

its silver rays always come back.

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