The Cabin Floor


I sit on the shaggy floor of my lonesome cabin,  picking at carpet fibers 

I hear a booming voice call for dinner, but I inch closer to the fireplace fire 

My boring puzzle sits unfinished, my mind wanders off to the deep, dark woods

I should’ve gone up for dinner, mother told me this place was no good 


It’s colder than I thought it would be, shivers wave over my spine 

Leaves crunch as I creep along, I should run back. Do I have time?

I hear little voices whisper their appellations as I creep further still 

Open your eyes, the thoughts bounce around and my head continues to kill 


My eyes are wide open, but it’s pitch vantablack 

The frigid wind blows up my shirt and slips right down my back 

The warm scent of cinnamon still lingers above my lip 

I reach out my arms, trying to find my way, but my finger, it gets pricked 


Blood trickles down and I shove my finger in my mouth, desperate to stop the bleeding 

The bitter taste of iron fills me now and takes me back to that awful, terrible beating 

My heart is bruised and swollen, three times the size it was 

My brain wrapped itself in thick, heavy chains, we’re not allowed to love 


I feel a hand reach out from the darkness and it wraps each dead cold finger around my arm one by one 

The fingers are frail, but each one stings real bad. I call out, Someone. Anyone. 

I know he’s found me now, I should’ve turned back when the scent of pine trees grew stronger 

He steps into the light and slides down his tinted glasses, I can’t hold on any longer 


His pale skin is glowing, his smile is just as sinister as before 

Alas my demon found me, even after I locked the door 

My mind favors his sneaky grin over my salty flood of tears 

This time the little voices have decided to name him “tormentor of the year” 


My body quakes and my feet are frozen in position 

Tears stream silently down my face as his grip tightens and tightens 

Why are you crying?” He says as he wipes my tears, “My dear, you’re just so pretty.”

It would almost be comforting if I didn’t know the bastard was lying, thinking that he’s tricky 


Suddenly I can see, somewhat clearly,“Stop lying to me” 

I close my eyes again and force them open, weak and wearily 

The scent of cinnamon overwhelmed my senses as I found myself back on that old shag carpet 

Loud laughter and voices still chattering above the ceiling, so close, yet so far from it 


The demon still owns his own little concession stand in the corner of my mind 

I can’t help but want to visit his sickly, skinny self to buy a drink from time to time 

It always takes me a minute to remember the nightmares are only my day dreaming 

I stand to join the bustling party upstairs, but why is my finger bleeding? 


  • scarlet poet

    Wow, what a powerful message to share. The way you worded each line was so perfectly described to the point where I feel your pain. I like how you used concession stand in the corner of your mind that you want to visit time to time. It’s definitely a part of me that I have, but not the same as yours. The demon inside your mind will never leave, but the least you can do for yourself is forgive your mind and yourself. This speaks mind to me too, so thank you for sharing! Favorited!
    Keep loving yourself through this pain, no matter how hard it may be, loving yourself can help keep you sane through anything!

    • Evergreen

      Thank you so much! I'm glad you could relate and apply it to your own suffering. Ditto to you.


    • dusk arising

      Couldn't stop reading this. Longer pieces generally bore me but here you kept suspense till the end. And superb end it was too.
      Wonderful creative writing.

      • Evergreen

        Thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoyed it.


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