The Cult

Witness these creatures

And their dilapidated

State. Is this God’s will?

Nightmare 1

Toothless hag clamps my

Mouth, waking, smothering me,

Beneath her bathrobe

What do they call it

When you’re not dead but not live

The gray waiting place

Paradise I gave
You; you call it hell. You took
My secrets and told

The world. Now I
Waste away beneath the ground;
Your satisfaction.

I move at rapid

Balletic pace, pounding key,

Feet pushing pedals.

I wait for texts to

Be certain that I am still

Alive, desired.

My lips’ caress on

Your velvet breasts, shivering

Throughout your body