Content warning
This story may contain sensitive material or discuss topics that some readers may find distressing. Reader discretion is advised. The views and opinions expressed in this story are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of Vocal.
Lovely Bit of Nightmare Fuel
Poem...I guess. Not as sorry as I should be!
Waking up, covered in sweat
Aphids crawl in every crevice
Dirt blocking out my vision
The little I can see
Is black, bleary and blurry
Where am I, what is this?
There's something sniffing
Sniffing around my ears
Nibbling at the edges
Playfully even, ticklish
Rats, mice or something
Maybe ferrets
There's that smell
Polecat, ferret smell
Worms slither in my hair
Trying to break free
Can't move my arms
Can't move my legs
Are they strapped down?
Are they weighed down?
By the sand and dirt
That covers my body
From my head to toes
Does it even matter?
I can't move
I can't escape
Stuck in this hell
Stuck in this prison
It feels like a container
Or box, or maybe coffin?
Why did i just think coffin?
Now I can't
Can't think of anything else
But coffin, confining me
My nose is itchy, dammit
That seems unimportant
But the itch is aggavating
Stuck in this hell
Stuck in this prison
By
Who know who
Who knows what
For what, for why
I could speak
If I could open my lips
My jaw is sore
Even if I could
Could I vocalise
What I'm feeling
How I'm reeling
In terror
Maybe it's time
Time to embrace it
Give in
Let it take me
Whatever it is
Whoever it is
Fighting seems
Pointless
Hopeless
In vain
How can it be
that it is hot
And also cold
There is something else
Spiders? scorpions
Crawling and biting or picking
At my skin and flesh
Why won't I wake up?
Is this even a dream?
Or a neverending nightmare
I am not even sure
if I can tell whether I...
Am awake or not
Why is it getting warmer?
Why is it getting darker?
...
*
Thanks for reading!
Just had an idea, to just write a lovely bit of nightmare fuel. I am not as sorry as I should be.
For different pieces, why not have a look at these:
You can also check out some of my other work here.
About the Creator
Paul Stewart
Scottish-Italian poet/writer from Glasgow.
Overflowing in English language torture and word abuse.
"Every man has a sane spot somewhere" R.L Stevenson
The Accidental Poet - Poetry Collection is now available!
https://paulspoeticprints.etsy.com
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also pledge your support or give them a one-off tip, letting them know you appreciate their work.
Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Top insights
Excellent storytelling
Original narrative & well developed characters
Expert insights and opinions
Arguments were carefully researched and presented
Eye opening
Niche topic & fresh perspectives
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
Comments (5)
Oooo, being buried alive has always fascinated me! I loved this so much!
Have you read any of Tom Baker's writings on Vocal. He talks a fair amount about sleep paralysis, & it just strikes me that this poem would fit write in.
Iβm so glad my dreams arenβt influenced by my Vocal browsing. Thanks for the hellscape. π€¨
Very creepy. And totally giving Edgar Allan Poe vibes. Nice work!
Nice and creepy. A bit reminiscent of Poe's "The Premature Burial" and that's a good thing. Great work, Paul!