it’s myself
talking to myself
about myself
haunted by memory
hunted by music
waiting for the jump
already flinching
in a way
I am the one
turning off the light
children fear the dark
adults fear what’s real
still
we line up for horror
because the waiting
is quieter than the scream
-
Author:
Necky (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: January 9th, 2026 20:23
- Category: Spiritual
- Views: 2

Offline)
Comments1
A most interesting write about how we are attracted to terror. A good read
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.