Zenos

Waking does not dispel
Such conventional horrors.
This shame, these secrets
Upon which I asphyxiate.
The scent of loneliness
Like a harbor
That does not anchor
The ships employed.
*
You pass into me
Assume my mannerisms
Without question of origin.
Row after row of blasphemous suits
An increasingly ill-fitting wardrobe.
A denser and less communicative core.
I step in and out of your memory
As a cicada usurps its carapace
Alone, I understand
That the only monster is fear.
*
Your eyes are unlit charcoals
A necrotic dust
That devours in dissemination.
When you look at me
I see my soul,
A suppurating hollow
Into which dead things fall.
A kiss that draws blood
And splinters of bone
As if the donor
Were only a meal.
*
Wherever the armor holds
There is sure to be a demon.
Within each closed heart
A Zenos splits its maw
With each succulent morsel
With each salt starched scale
He grows thinner, hungrier
Soon there will be nothing
Left of me to tell

For

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2015/01/22/tale-weavers-prompt-create-a-monster/

 

We had to create a monster and then write about it and although my entry is dark I thought this was a fabulous and unique prompt. I gave my monster a somewhat alien look because I had a frightening dream about aliens recently. I was in bed, in my room and looking out the windows as I often do. The world was out of sync it kept shifting up and down. The sun had a strange diseased appearance and was only as bright as the moon. The sky looked like it was bleeding oil and there were strange alien-like shadows in the windows/on the balcony. Entities of some sort that weren’t quite in my dimension but who had a very strong malevolent aura about them. I whispered to Sam “Have you looked outside?” and he says to me “Yes but I’m more worried about what’s at the foot of the bed.” and then I woke up. I can only say you had to be there to understand how scary it was!

 

This about how when depressed we make our world smaller and smaller

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