Boo!

Each clown that jumps

From a skeleton riddled closet

Scares the crap out of me.

My life has the perfect cover

Like a book of fairytales,

But riddled with Sam Raimi's imaginative creations.

I feel fear at every corner I turn,

Waiting for their inevitable attack.

One day could be a good day,

The next I will wake screaming,

Wild hands around my neck

Choking that likeable side of me

-If I have one-

Until it falls dead on the floor.

I am my own worst enemy.

My imagination takes control every time I look in the mirror.

It grins sadistically and says,

Haha,

You're *@%!ed now!

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Author guidance for This poem

The mature poems I cannot post in 'Standing on the corner of Poem street'

updated Jun 16 '10 by Alipix