Subconscious

Through a low trellis I trip
into a dark and dank grotto.
Did you hear that?
Sounded to me like some
kind of footsteps,
misshapen and clawed.

How can he live here?
Jesus it is like I stepped
into Cro-Magnon society,
chicken bones thrown
haphazardly upon the ground,
a muddy pool of some
undisclosed liquid, looking
quite a bit like a wash basin,
and that smell...I'd rather
not know what that smell is.

I heard it again,
maybe it is just roots
cracking the outer crust
of this place.
Why am I here?

The incessant drips
dropping like bullets
into my brain,
why won't it stop
and where are those
footsteps coming from?

I know, I'll hide and ambush
the mischevious minion.
At least then I can put a face
to those footsteps.

In a moment,
I'll see,
you'll see.
Do you think
it can
hear my heart
beating out of
my chest?
Just in case let me
grab this rock for
protection...

What am I saying
I don't even know what the
hell this thing is,
human or otherwise.

Again with that DAMN DRIPPING!!
My mind surges with
annoyance, concentrate,
concentrate, count to ten,
listen for the clickety clack
of this bag of bones bitch
that is following you,
breathe, in, out,
breathe.

There it is again...
much closer and cautious
this time, come on...
little closer,
I can't quite see around the corner...
just a few more seconds.

In my haste I had forgotten that
the roofline of my hiding space
was about four inches smaller
than I am tall.
The blinding pain,
then stars,
then blackness.

Awakened by my own breathing
I realized that my head is supported,
I am covered with blankets,
and it smells lightly of lavender.

Think that's the last time I'll step
into my subconscious.

© Justin Frieberg, All rights reserved

Darkest Days

When the blazing sun
shines no more upon
the plains of dust
and dreary memories

That is when you will
find me wandering,
for I am a traveler
of the darkest kind

I prey on human fear,
torment, and nightmares.
I feed upon emotions,
and I fill my chalice 
with yours.

I know no age,
time does not mar
my visage. 
I am eternal,
haunting you.

In your final hour,
on your darkest day,
I rest in the shadows
devouring your mind.

© Justin Frieberg, All rights reserved