Twisted Roads – Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks

open the door to the swing that swung,

I fused the visage of something strong,

aloft,

above,

I gave myself hope,

the darkness spoken,

the darkness spoke,

wedged eagled wings,

broken but not sewn,

slithers of something me,

but never do I come,

I was for I am,

but I am not me,

a glass,

a bottle,

a broken shard of release,

my cryptic puzzle,

a sea withing me,

open the door,

cut the flesh,

a puddle,

a river,

a sea from within me…