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The Visitor - 1/7
(This is a repost of a longer piece, better organized and easier to find. Enjoy. -J.)
I
darkness of night, lit only by moon
she opens the window, climbs into my room
I can smell her hair, hear her gasping for breath,
covered in filth, and the foul stench of death
her head swivels toward me, as if on a hinge
she croaks at me, as I shudder and cringe
her one good eye staring, demanding my own,
my mouth dry, I stammer 'leave me alone'
I can't tell if she heard -- she doesn't reply
just stands there staring, with one milky eye
suddenly, slightest twitch of her head
one arm raises slowly, to rest on the bed
bare feet shuffle closer, she whispers my name
my hands clutch the blankets, she scrambles for same
her body leans in, her skin desiccate, gray
lying beside me as I pull away
our faces so close, I can see in her hair
the insects and fungi residing in there
she leans in for a kiss and I try not to scream
hoping all this is some horrible dream
her arm reaches over, encircles my waist
the smell now so bad that it's almost a taste
her grip is so solid I can't move at all
trapped between terror and my bedroom wall
she lies there like that, just staring at me
for hours on end, while I struggle to flee
not hurting me, really, just keeping me still
while we stare at each other, my horror, her will
yet somehow I sleep, despite terrible fear
and when I awaken, she's no longer here
no footsteps on fl0or and the window is barred
as if she had never set foot on my yard
and still I can tell she'll be back here again
because I keep having this dream now and then
she'll slink to my bed and crawl in for a spell
as though being here eases her personal hell
and in every dream that I've had of this sort
they are harmless and sweet, though thankfully short
comfort and love are what she seems to crave
so badly, in fact, she'll climb out of her grave
II
it's been a full week, and she's here every night
lying beside me, not leaving my sight
not speaking or moving, but watching me, silent
keeping me company, not a bit violent
I don't know if I've become used to the smell
or if being near me is making her well
I do notice now that her eye is less milky
her hair, th0ugh infested, is slightly more silky
and lo0king at her doesn't bother as much
despite the dead flesh, filthy clothing and such
and though no expression has yet crossed her face
I imagine a sadness in there, just a trace
as if something terrible happened one day
to cause her young life to be taken away
accident maybe, though somehow I doubt it
I think that she's trying to tell me about it
so why not just tell me? Why just lie here unspoken?
why crawl in my window, battered and broken
and terrify me without giving a clue?
what is it that I'm supposed to do?
none of those questions come from me yet
I feel like if she spoke, I'd unravel, upset
by the very idea of the sound of her voice --
to lie here in silence, far better a choice
patiently then, I stay still in bed
unfrightened, though nervous to lie with the dead
waiting for her to make some kind of move
I'll help you, my visitor -- if you approve
but nothing - no movement, nor slight indication
that she's interested in any conversation
until, close enough that I'm certain she sees
I lean a bit closer, and soft, whisper "please"
her eye widens suddenly, caught quite off guard
shoving me backward to hit the wall hard
with unnatural movement, she leaps to the night
out of the window, clear gone from sight
initially frightened, but now just upset
hoping her visits aren't quite over yet
the dream ends, despite my wanting more
and that's when I notice the dirt on the floor
I
darkness of night, lit only by moon
she opens the window, climbs into my room
I can smell her hair, hear her gasping for breath,
covered in filth, and the foul stench of death
her head swivels toward me, as if on a hinge
she croaks at me, as I shudder and cringe
her one good eye staring, demanding my own,
my mouth dry, I stammer 'leave me alone'
I can't tell if she heard -- she doesn't reply
just stands there staring, with one milky eye
suddenly, slightest twitch of her head
one arm raises slowly, to rest on the bed
bare feet shuffle closer, she whispers my name
my hands clutch the blankets, she scrambles for same
her body leans in, her skin desiccate, gray
lying beside me as I pull away
our faces so close, I can see in her hair
the insects and fungi residing in there
she leans in for a kiss and I try not to scream
hoping all this is some horrible dream
her arm reaches over, encircles my waist
the smell now so bad that it's almost a taste
her grip is so solid I can't move at all
trapped between terror and my bedroom wall
she lies there like that, just staring at me
for hours on end, while I struggle to flee
not hurting me, really, just keeping me still
while we stare at each other, my horror, her will
yet somehow I sleep, despite terrible fear
and when I awaken, she's no longer here
no footsteps on fl0or and the window is barred
as if she had never set foot on my yard
and still I can tell she'll be back here again
because I keep having this dream now and then
she'll slink to my bed and crawl in for a spell
as though being here eases her personal hell
and in every dream that I've had of this sort
they are harmless and sweet, though thankfully short
comfort and love are what she seems to crave
so badly, in fact, she'll climb out of her grave
II
it's been a full week, and she's here every night
lying beside me, not leaving my sight
not speaking or moving, but watching me, silent
keeping me company, not a bit violent
I don't know if I've become used to the smell
or if being near me is making her well
I do notice now that her eye is less milky
her hair, th0ugh infested, is slightly more silky
and lo0king at her doesn't bother as much
despite the dead flesh, filthy clothing and such
and though no expression has yet crossed her face
I imagine a sadness in there, just a trace
as if something terrible happened one day
to cause her young life to be taken away
accident maybe, though somehow I doubt it
I think that she's trying to tell me about it
so why not just tell me? Why just lie here unspoken?
why crawl in my window, battered and broken
and terrify me without giving a clue?
what is it that I'm supposed to do?
none of those questions come from me yet
I feel like if she spoke, I'd unravel, upset
by the very idea of the sound of her voice --
to lie here in silence, far better a choice
patiently then, I stay still in bed
unfrightened, though nervous to lie with the dead
waiting for her to make some kind of move
I'll help you, my visitor -- if you approve
but nothing - no movement, nor slight indication
that she's interested in any conversation
until, close enough that I'm certain she sees
I lean a bit closer, and soft, whisper "please"
her eye widens suddenly, caught quite off guard
shoving me backward to hit the wall hard
with unnatural movement, she leaps to the night
out of the window, clear gone from sight
initially frightened, but now just upset
hoping her visits aren't quite over yet
the dream ends, despite my wanting more
and that's when I notice the dirt on the floor
Published 22nd Mar 2016
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