In my nightmares

A faceless person opens me up

With knife wounds and lets out

the impurity in my soul.

While I pen poetry, nude in my

bathtub

a ghost shatters my window with

a thousand

guns. Littering bullet shells on my

doorpost.

I'm afraid.

A faceless person lurks at my

door bounds, one with the

night,

Wearing acrid shadows. The

darkness is most heavy

at the back of my tongue.

a ghost holds me.... I'm afra-