Free Write II: The Spookhouse

They’re all actors.

Macabre gestures in the dark.

Give the boy a fun house mirror with plastic friends attached and let him go wild.

Evict love and lease to loneliness and discontent.

The moon, great watchman of the sky, sees this all for that it is.

A make shift cage. A trap for fools. A spookhouse with no windows.

Where only sinners and beasts exist.

Life now appears with a slew of other options.

And the walk to the exit is littered with up turned hearts.

Broken vessels, I left mine there on the way in.

Give me fire. We’re doomed to this lie. Let me go wild.



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