Cold eyes, glassy and staring,
Slide slowly across,
Like a security camera,
Emotionless and remote.
They stop with chilling abruptness
Like a gasp, never heard,
A beam that freezes you in place.
The frayed lace stirs slowly
As the head follows.
Target acquired.
August 18, 2016
Possession
By emtwytte
This entry was posted on Thursday, August 18th, 2016 at 12:39 pm and tagged with Ghost Story, Poem, Poetry, Possession, Short Stories, Short Story and posted in Fiction, Poetry, Short Stories. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.
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