Thr macabre show.

Pull up a chair,
grab beers from
the fridge.
Let’s find you a
dark and dreary
corner inside my mind.
Front row seats to the macabre show.
Don’t mind the mess.
The blood is long dried
and congealed.
But do watch the bones.
Walk around if you must
but do avoid the shadows
my demons have taken up
permanent residence there.
If you come across a bleeding
clown, machete in his hand,
be sure to wink and wink
again, for he is just a man.
Pull up a chair, grab yourself
some vodka, come, take my hand, front row seats to watch this fucked up show.

Karen Hayward ©2016.