Vehemence, I killed you years ago
I just dug my fingers in and ripped you right out from beneath my skin
And so with blood dripping from my fingers, my years tired, I exhaled... Just as I wished...
But when the Prophets said dried bones shall rise again,
They didn't say I would feel skeleton fingers groping my neck and choking, while I strive for balance so they can stand.
I can feel them cracking, them damn bones...
So I hang on to the trap house, a life line for when the White Witch returns within and slays the screaming demons...
We have finished planting the seeds from the former stage,
So She went to get another pot of gold and I couldn't go along for my fear of hydrophobia...
... But when she returns inside me, we're going to be rich...
And staying sane till the White Witch returns is my own job...
So I'm hanging on to the life line, periodt!

© A. S. Adaora