Horrid Little Desires
The Fantastical Lens of Ghosts
I want red, dripping oozing
Fresh mottling and bruising.
I want vibrant tears in my eye
To tell a story of grief as I die.
I want rain to wash me down
Like poison into the ground.
I want pain sharp as bite
To wake me from the night.
I want shadows to move, blink
Peer back at me from the brink.
I want horrors to awaken
Fears that I have long shaken.
I want to crawl onto this page
Sit with dark words for an age.
I want to drink these things,
Take flight and break my wings.
I want, I want, I want
These halls to haunt and haunt.
About the Creator
Laura Lann
I harbor a deep passion for horror and fantasy, often heavily mixed together. After a tumultuous childhood, I find myself often writing about family dynamics as well. In my spare time, I can be found drawing or painting.
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