mIrk
...a dank, dark Halloween visitation
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There's something there. Something in the background that I can't quite make it out. It's been there for days, just out of reach. Fleeting and darting. I can't quite focus. I sense it; following me... an inconsiderate something; Sickening and woeful.

So I wait. I wait resigned, I watch and gulp Looking over my shoulder, looking all around. through slitted eyes, I struggle to make out a form, its form. There's depth, height and breadth and as I look, take notice, they disperse wide and vanish to nothing. I see a shadow; an atrocious shadow that slithers along. I can't see what I feel. It feels strong. Face it, I tell myself. Face It. The glimpse of an angry eye, maybe? A staring pointed eye, a hollow circle that... that is a mouth of decaying teeth? Thoughts undermine me while I silently curse its haggard loose decaying corrupted form. It oozes cruel, malicious guilt while I feel an abysmal distress; I am worthlessly pained with disgust. Hard-hearted and filthy, I weaken. Like me, it too watches and waits. Wary and hurtful, it undermines me. Take me in your arms. Me and it spinning and twirling through pirouettes. My gruesome dishevelled call is you. That wicked dismal breath, frightful and haggard that jealous grave, we are. We are. We be.

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