Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks

You spill your words,

like blood flows from a cut,

thick, warm and sticky,

hoping I’ll come unstuck,

you strike,

you victimize me,

you try to drown me in my spew,

but I’ll rise higher than you ever could,

I’ll rise high above you,

and when I there,

looking down on your withered form,

I’ll not relent,

I’ll not back down,

I’ll burn your bones to dust,

but don’t you fear,

and don’t you cry,

it is its master plan,

for can’t you see,

I tried to fight,

but there can only be one of us.