---

Dam

One side is moist with residue
of bright ideas long gone
can't remember all of them

My osotis

but that day is behind
and today I don't mind
about flowers (so what if they're blue?)

No right rhyme for ''bed''

No horror will come from that place
I know because none ever did
and yet I so fear that ominous space
the black darkness under the lid

The monster is lurking inside
my own head

Without looking I know that there is nothing there
about old dust and lost socks I really don't care
so I wonder what fills me with that awful dread
of that silent dark hollow, under my bed

Was there a tone?

I knew father wasn't angry, or upset
But I took you there - to that same moment
Hope you liked it. Don't know why

Winter

shade my vision, let it wet
I don't think I'm ready yet

---

Auto

He was crying with horrified rage, not trying to scare them
off, but responding to an insane instinct that didn't
cooperate with his thinking mind any more.

Heck it's dark here

My older brother, I guess. Probably hunting for those things
he likes to hunt.
There are so many I don't really care. He'll never wipe the
whole race out.
Damn things don't exist outside his head anyway.