Wingword Poetry Prize 2020 is now open. Submit your poems today!

Wish it was a Dream

Ankita Singhania

With claws, sharp and
neck splitting,
she crept in my room.
Her eyes:
large,
gawking me through
the darkness of
the night.
My sheet felt like
a dementor crawling
over me, covering
me in pain
sucking the life
out of me,
every drop of happiness
sucked out
that ever resided in me.

My breathes: more like pants,
my body, trembled with
beads of sweat
on my forehead
and my heart raced.
My mind was
foggy,
distracted,
lost,
an imprint of cheetah spots;
yet retained the horrendous sight.

I was zooming
in and out of
my surroundings;
sometimes all black
others, blinding white.
She screeched so loud;
I feared my end,
clutching my drenched
bosom, trying to catch
my racing heart beat,
only to realize
the fan coming to a halt
and waking me up from
my persistent nightmare.


Leave a comment