Needless Things: Chainsaw Symphony

Porch light ticks like a dying eye, cold gas breathes and the hinges sigh; footsteps count in a crooked rhyme, shadows hold their poisoned time.

Windows fog with a sleepless ache, knuckles white on a rattling stake; pumpkins dim to a mute, dark grin, oil and metal are moving in.

for when the curtains fall, bloodsplatter coats the walls, when you hear his saw a buzzin, youll be wishing that you wasn't

Hallway hums like a wired vein, doorframe trembles to hide the stain; silence sharpens the edge of dread, every prayer sounds already dead.

Masks of midnight, tar-black stare, breath turns glass in the freezing air; after the engine, nothing speaks, only the echos of your shreiks. NNN