There's fear in places it doesn't belong.
I wonder why that is?
The softest spoken sound can inspire terror- shivers, like knives on the toes of ballerinas, carving their way up my spine, stopping at my throat, silencing my voice with the threat of reality- don't scream, they'll hear you
I smile in half beats, nod when it's correct, adding music to my motions to keep rhythm with what's expected
All the while, the shivers prickle in my lungs, threatening to exhale my truth
don't scream, they'll know who you are
Is there anything more terrifying than being known?
About the Creator
Christiane Winter
Science fiction, horror, and dark comedy enthusiast. D&D + RPG afficionado. Like all aspiring authors, I have hundreds of stories, and almost none have been finished.
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More stories from Christiane Winter and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Sins of My Father
My Father chases the bottom of a bottle like it holds the universes best kept secrets. He's not a religious man; raised Lutheran, but he finds his Hail Mary's in the ecstasy of poison. He drinks from it, it drinks from him, and there he finds ritual in his God- this my body, and I give it up for you.
By Christiane Winterabout a year ago in Poets
The steps to losing a child
Step One: Lose a child. Not what anyone wants to happen and nothing you can do to change it, but you can go through steps to becoming happy again. You can go through steps to loving again. You can go through steps to become a new you because after losing a child you will never be the same person you once were.
By Tabitha Hinkley6 days ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
I read this out loud, like slam poetry. Beautiful!
Amazing piece