Corridors of Thought
A surreal poem
Intersect me.
Split me open
In the center
Of the old forest
Where witches
Went off to die
And wizards
Howled through
Moonless nights,
Losing every bit
Of themselves
To the cold wind
Of inevitable
Change.
.
Intercept me
Pick me off
Before I get
A chance to
Find my legs.
Wrap your fingers
Around my warmth
And pluck me from
The apple tree before
The frost catches hold.
.
Stop me first
Because I will be
Stopped.
It is only a matter
Of time and patience
Before I am hogtied
To a goalpost,
Strung up and out
Like a winter roast.
A pig in every right.
The glutton of dreams.
About the Creator
Silver Daux
Writer of the dark! Think of it like flipping rocks, the weird little stories underneath are my jam and jelly. Jam and butter? Just jam. Absolutely no use of AI in any of my works :)
Ah, also:
Tiktok/Insta: harbingerofsnake
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