Halloween Galore, Poetry
The Fonce by Ellen Donbeck
15 October 2009
After hours, I awoke in a pool of sweat
And the realization that I’m very much not alone
I look out my window for the comfort of sunlight
Only to be mocked by the skyscrapers of the dead
Why had I nestled here I thought
So close to this restful sight, so loud in its eternity
Ticking, taunting any peace
My cover blown, I freeze
My throat begging to be swallowed
Dry, can’t breathe
She’s here
Underneath my nails I feel her creep into me
She’s hungry
For a moment I think I’ll run
For a moment I think I’ll scream
But that moment was all I had
And now she will have me
I wondered if I loved
I wondered if I lived
I look out my window for one last time
Why had I nestled here I thought
Away from the warmth of the sun
Maybe I’ll get the answer
After her dinner is done
ewalker - who has written 21 posts on the Whiskey Dregs.
Ellen Donbeck is a playwright, originally from Nashville TN. Ellen has composed a number of works, mostly plays and short stories performed in and out of the U.S. Avid traveler, she finds her inspiration in the cities she visits, cultures that challenge her thoughts and ideas. Ellen was introduced to the Whiskey Dregs by Carlos Detres in a beautiful conversation about free writing. Exploring this stream of consciousness, she threw the format she is so inclined to use out the window and simply never took the pen off the paper. The writing she contributes to the whiskey dregs is unlike her work in her career, and she’s thankful for the outlet and the freedom…
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