meloostraightfromhertilt-a-world

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Potato Chip


"potato chip"

words tele-typing in my head
was I
awake or dreaming

I heard long nails
digging into
scratching
into my scalp

no,
my third floor window?

its four a.m.
I peer out
onto a shrouded fog-filled world
my eyes adjusting

my heart twists in my chest
audible thudding in my ears

my mind plays tricks on me

I hear a thin wiry whisper of
"hello, potato chip"

my heart flips in my chest
like a fragile tell-tale chip
in a rustling metallic bag

out on a reedy branch balancing
not ten feet in front of me
Its red-eyed stare
bores into me

It
knows my name

I've a sense of one long
toothy gaping grin
a deep cavernous hunger
slobbering within

"potato chip"

words roared
as It lunges forward
dismounting from a bending branch
with the eerie twitching energy
of a spasticly-coiled hobgoblin

how easily double-paned glass
shatters
as Its
jaws imbed themselves
in my ...



Copyright November 8, 2015 All Rights are Reserved By This Author/Writer
All ideas/poetry/prose/rants are the expressed legal property of this writer.
Taken from my nightmares and dream-lands.
Meloo/Melissa A Howells straight from her Tilt-a-World


Re-edited on November 11th 2015. The figure in my dream was immense and shaggy
but I did not want to over-burden the poem with adjectives. I think its good to
leave imagination in the mind of the individual reader.

LEGAL COPYRIGHT TO THIS WORK AND THIS SITE TITLE





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