horror themed poetry, Poetry, scary poem

Alice & Friends

schizophrenia_by_pringlesaddict99-d693xte

I get scared with myself sometimes.
I see things that normal people
Can’t even see with their eyes.
I can’t even explain it, it’s only trouble.


I sometimes wake up
With a sharp object in my hand
And I’m covered in what they call blood.
I hate its smell, it’s something I can’t stand.


You would want to know what I see?
Sure, I can – no, no it’s only for me.
But I really do want to tell you.
They just won’t allow me to.


Who are they? They’re my friends.
They’re the ones I usually talk to.
Mommy says I simply pretend,
But I’m not! I got a lot of them! More than two!


How do I talk to them?
It’s just like talking to you!
I can hear their voice so I listen.
When I speak, they can hear me too.


Can I describe them? Sure I can!
You’re pretty lucky, they let me do it this time!
Okay, one is handsome and he has a tan.
His eyes are missing and he’s covered in slime.


Two is bulky and also quite hairy.
He has a beating thing in his chest
And it has the color of a cherry.
Three is last but probably the best.


He’s bald and skinny and he looks really tired.
It appears his head has literally been fried.
He wears an orange jumpsuit or overall
And he’s my best friend out of them all.


He talks to me a lot.
A lot more than my two friends.
He talks about drugs, sex and pot,
Which I’m clueless about, but I listen with intent.


He’s actually talking to me right now.
Uh-huh, really? Oh wow!
He has a message for you, come close.
“I’d kill you right now if I wasn’t tied to these ropes.”

Advertisements
Standard

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s