Ghostly Fingers

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Don’t touch the switch!

I beg you.

I see them, as clear as I see you now.

When they think you’re not looking, they lurk, sneer and shriek, tormenting me with their empty hollow eyes and pointy teeth.

They sit in the shadows and waiting, and waiting for dusk to come again.

For when night approaches, so does my fear.

Their black ghostly gnarled claws rip through the once vibrant coloured walls.

Colours lost and all is left is the sickening fear eating at my throat.

Tell me that you see, touch, and hear them as I do.

And look, now they’re coming closer and closer towards me.

Please switch on the lights!

 

I can’t write poetry for toffee (or free wifi in today’s modern era) but this sorts of explains a bit about my fear of the dark. Still can’t shake it off even if I want to.

Daily Prompt – Ghost

 

 

 

 

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