I awaken frail as frost

And slough away my dreams

Before dousing the morning light

And pacing dingy streets

The sun's smoldering done

I'm laced with pavement soot

And trail a charcoal cloak

In passionless pursuit

Hypnotic wandering, I breathe

Ashen dust and hear

All life's melodies ringing

Through the blackened streets

Until the ringing rises

And reaches a screaming pitch

That rings

and rings

and rings

A screeching babel and swell

Of banshee whims and wails

A cacophonous shrill

And deafening din which

Ends soon after it begins

Until I hear nothing

Nothing at all, again

For some strange reason, the vision of the slightly bloodied skullcap looked somehow familiar. Then my eyes shifted focus to the flash of something moving backward and forward in the mirror just to my right, I noticed my face and, someone carving into my brain with a knife and fork.

My dog is always, ALWAYS licking her privates.  I mean, she licks and laps and goes at it like it's filet mignon or something. So one day, I licked her down there, too.*

*Tastes like chicken.

The stranger knocked upon the door,

A creaking, wooden throb,

And someone on the other side

Unlatched and turned the knob.

Uncertainty, a soft, "Hello,"

And, "May I use your phone?"

The person on the other side

Appeared to be alone.

An observation taken in,

No pictures on the wall.

He pointed somewhere down the way-

"Go on and make a call."

The thunder boomed; the stranger stalled

As wires were cut instead.

The gentleman began to sense

A subtle hint of dread.

A conversation thus ensued-

"So what has brought you out?

The rain has flooded everything,

And wiped away the drought.

Say, did you walk, or did you drive?

Why don't I take your coat?"

The stranger slowly moved his arms,

A sentimental gloat.

The water from the pouring skies

Enveloped cloth and shoe.

"Say, would you like a place to sleep?

I'll leave it up to you."

The person on the other side

Discarded his mistrust.

The stranger said his tire was flat,

And shed the muddy crust.

"The phone won't work," he also said.

"It could just be the storm.

Perhaps I will stay here tonight,

To keep me safe and warm."

The patron of the house agreed.

He hadn't seen the wire.

The chilly dampness prompted him

To quickly build a fire.

"You have a name? They call me Ed.

My wife was Verna Dean.

She passed away five years ago

And left me here as seen.

I guess it's really not so bad.

We never had a child.

I loved that Verna awful much,"

He said and sadly smiled.

"No property to divvy up.

The bank will get it all.

Say, do you want to try again

To go and make that call?"

The stranger grinned and left the flame

As to the phone he strode.

Within his pocket, knives and twine

In hiding seemed to goad.

A plan was formed- he'd kill the man;

Eviscerate him whole.

The twine would keep him firmly held;

The knife would steal his soul.

A lusty surge erupted hence;

A wicked bit of sin.

The stranger hadn't noticed yet

That someone else came in.

About the time a shadow fell,

He spun to meet a pan.

The room around him faded out

As eyes looked on a man.

A day or two it seemed had passed,

And when he woke all tied,

The stranger gazed upon old Ed

Who simply said, "You lied."

Reversing thoughts, the moment fled

And Ed said in a lean,

"No worries, stranger. None at all.

Hey, look, here's Verna Dean!"

He looked upon a wraith in rage;

It seemed his little lie

Combusted in a burning fit-

He didn't want to die.

So many victims in his life,

Some fifty bodies strewn.

And now he was the victim; now

The pain to him was known.

The stranger fought against the twine,

And noticed by his bed

The knife once in his pocket left

A trail of something red.

A bowl filled full of organs sat

As Verna poured some salt.

She exited with all of them.

"You know, this is your fault.

We demons wait for just the day

The guilty take the bait

And play with matches one last time-

I simply cannot wait

To taste the death within your flesh;

The venom in your gut.

So now you know the way they felt-

Hey, you've got quite a cut!"

The person on the other side

Removed his human skin-

Before his wife came back for more,

He offered with a grin:

"Say, stranger, is there anything

You'd like to say at all?"

I looked at all the blood and said,

"I'd like to make that call ... "

"Will you just shut up?!" the angry mother lashed out. She threw the dirty bowl back into the sink, splashing murky water everywhere. "Shit!"

She stormed across the kitchen to the bassinet.

"Ssshhhhh..." she picked up the baby, already blue, and cold to the touch. "Ssshhh... mummy's here now. Sshhhh..."

Hello everyone,  I am from the Philippines I am 25 years old.  

I chose to use a Filipino username here in the prose,  and I also intend to write in my native tongue which is Filipino.  

Pluma at Dugo, my username literally means QUILL AND BLOOD. 

I chose this username because I do believe that every writer writes not only with our electronic devices or paper and pen but with our hearts which function as a pump of blood.

I intend to use this site to write my heart's content in every possible way whether in the form of poetry,  prose,  haiku or any form of literature in my language and in English. 

I do not know if there are Filipinos here but I hope so.  

Thank you. 

My friend has just broken up with her boyfriend of two years. 

Me: Do you want to taco 'bout it?

Friend: It's Nacho problem.