Sinister Masquerade

Tell, tell you what’s been on my muddled mind. Blue cues revolving like a spider’s eyes at a fly spiraling downward to suicide. Twisting insides, maggoty, golden, curling clues… fake little diamond rings dangling from warty fingers.

I’ve lost a sapphire slipper so I’m waiting for a frog to kiss my cheek, a dark cat to cross my path. No raven watches me undress my sorrows. No light sees the potion, nay poison or knows its full name. No words can incant my soul like his, barely whispered in the night. Wrapped in his silken threads I do not wish to struggle free.

Halloween Night

A three-year-old witch costume  rips. She shivers and sparkles under a dripping moon her matching shoes marching ahead, her matching hat getting caught by the bark of an outstretched tree branch. Excitement, fun size skittles scatter into undistinguished black bags. Plastic orange pumpkin buckets swing keeping a cadence of hard candies. Dum dums drum and thrash the insides of werewolves and Tinkerbells alike. Little angels wiggle their soggy wings toward warm minivans at 8:01 when waiting mothers finally disband the demons.