In William’s House
I find myself desperate.
Such a fool I was to go with him,
to this strange place.
He’s locked me in the basement and here I hear whispers.
The corners are alive and they tell me to dig!
Right at the soft spot, a patch of dirt
among the concrete.
So, I do–I dig and break my nails,
a bloody fucking mess
it is–but I don’t stop.
My flesh will crawl with worms before I stop.
Finally, it shows itself
to me. A handle of bone.
The white blade is sharp and carved
with symbols beyond my time.
This ivory knife has known dark deeds
and darker deeds it shall witness.
I am waiting, crouched,
just waiting for that fool to come back down.
The corners are alive. They ask for blood penance.
They ask for mine first!
I don’t want to but I must.
I take my eyes out. Dig the little bastards right out
with my devil’s bone.
And then, wait.
I will go home.