Upon Waking.

Sunlight dances through the window.
Dual edged and incisive as any scalpel--
It warms her flesh (cooled from one
            too many
                        nightmares
                                      tossed between the sheets)
and sears her tearing eyes open,
ripping her from one bedevilment to the next.

She's left screaming at seemingly empty walls,
raking nails down her flesh
there's a
            sickening sense of buoyancy as
her soul plays hide and seek with that body
(She hides it, and I seek. I seek
for what I wouldn't know)

His hands play through the walls,
nervous, (aroused) giddy with need--
As her spirit shrinks in upon the child she was,
it leaves little trails of innocence, sugar
sweet in whispers on the air
He finds that taste, brushing (ethereal) against His lips
and He loses it.

Re-animations, commanding corpses to
play closet games in the walls,
claustrophobically
                                   close and unmindful of
the sanity sucking ramifications;
He drives His penetrations deep, (crushing tiny wrists
in mammoth fists) beating purity out of her
one thrust at a time, He reminds her:

"Let me see those blue eyes, when you scream."
Clenching her jaw in one hand, wrists in the other;
"I wanna feel you bleed, baby. And I will."

That mist of a child rains down crimson,
bleeding contrast on grey walls.
And His scent hangs nauseating, cascading
in scalding waves crushing that cold-case on the bed
Dead. Death echoes here--
(Is she?)