all the creatures hunting

tiny creatures
dart across my
ephemeral things
i cannot quite
force my eyes
to focus on

are they faeries
or simply motes
of dead skin drifting
angels skimming
the miseries off
my pounding skull
or demons seeking
soft bits to poke

i sit perfectly still
watching without seeing
patiently hoping
to catch a glimpse
in the sudden movements

a layer of salt
across the table
shows something ran
over the coarse grain
no matter how i squint
nothing fills the frame

my weary mind
feels haunted by
the unheard prayers
floating in the silence
that draws the oxygen
from the air
while creatures skitter
through the salt
and flecks of faded dream
that litters the room

purple flashes
streak inside my head
as afterimages of
angels and demons
war for the remnants
of my scattered soul
while insects scurry
through blindspots
in my vacant glare


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