Monster

From A Rinse for My Bones - Horror isn’t just for October! Let’s get terrified in the middle of May! This was one of my first few horror poems. I wanted to write about a murder while focusing on the movement and journey of blood flow to create a vivid image but also distract you from who the victim and killer are. That unexpected info comes in near the end.

I splattered on your arms,

Streaked across your grin,

Dripped, dropped from the tips of your hair,

Stained sanguine along your chin.

I flowed quick around your fingers,

Journeyed slow down your boots

To feed the soil and earthworms,

Sate my grave's curling roots

You sniff, all the while dragging

Your hands wrapped 'round my feet.

And a stuttered sob escapes you,

Giving away your mind's retreat

From the monster that slipped into my room

With clammy hands, I couldn’t talk -

To the woman who gave me life,

Held my hand as I learned to walk.

But your tardy tears do nothing

More than hasten the flow of my blood

From the countless holes you carved in me

Oh mother, soaked in my heartbeat's flood.