Lurking

an unblessed region infested with lurking legions of heathens, mercilessly unleashing a murder season,
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Little Penney Weatherbee

Little Penney Weatherbee, of crescendoing pedigree, born to be unfettered and free ever sensing she would never be anything less than the estimable queen of heavenly things,
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The Clinic

In an effort to escape the blowing scorn, i foolishly bolt from the car and into the storm. in bolts of lightening i see human forms.
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Infected

You sing to me a more pleasant tune, than to the darkest night, brings a crescent moon. Your essence swoons a renascent plume of sentiments one could not assume. —a tenant in my blood to which I’m not immune.
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Quite a Quandary

On every Halloween that has come upon me, I’ve simply wrapped myself in ragged laundry and staggered about as a rabid zombie. Now this year, as I sit here, rapidly rotting,
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