I slept,
I lost my teeth last night,
They were taken by little hands,
Shadowy hands,
Teeming from every nook and cranny,
Of this shaded cell,
A host of impish incubi,
I stirred,
I can’t fight back,
Sleep paralysis,
The image of the hag holds me down,
My eyes simply spectate,
This sinister comedy,
The hands mock my seeming,
I woke,
I need my teeth,
For without them,
How am I to entertain the guests?
The lords and ladies,
The drunkards and jezebels,
I’ll be a waking pariah,
I cried.
So weird. I just wrote a poem yesterday called Torpor, which talks about inertia. Just waiting to post it… 😆
Oh wow, that’s a fascinating coincidence. Kindred souls my friend!
I’d love to read it!
The Oldschool Harlequin
I’ll post it soon. Just been taking breaks between poems that I post lately because I’ve been dropping poetry on the daily for nearly two years. Now I’m waiting in between poems but it’s coming! Same title too! Hive minds. 😊
It’s alright. You mustn’t rush art my friend. 🙂
The Oldschool Harlequin