My friend, Betty
The witch of the midnight
She meets me at my window, screeching the panes inside out.
She belongs to none, but to the pains and the bloody hounds.
She giggles at me,
And draws something on my hand
Holding my destiny under the veils of her shroud.
She says, "They know."
Following the fragrance of my blood as their thirst grows!
They call my name
Betty tells me its just a game
With her mischievous smile and dreadful cries.
Her widow's wail
Is surreal making me insane
I believe her when she says, "Just don't look behind."
I close my eyes
As I hear them whisper
A whiff of air in my ear, I hear, "Murderer!"
I choked in my breath
And froze to my bones
I felt them coming onto me suffocating my throat.
I screamed for Betty
She laughed looking at me
I looked back in fright as I see their haunting sight.
My eyes to theirs- Incest
A soul trapped in darkness
As I felt tiny needles piercing my heart putting me to rest.
A storm to dust
Eating souls, a disgust!
Their bodies shining bright in the hovering moonlight.
This work has been published in Beetle Magazine's August 2020 Issue.