Ink On The Skin

 Darkness creeps in so agonizingly slow, a tide licking at my feet. With it comes the cold, crawling up my legs, nesting deep within my bones. Bones that beg for warmth. My bed becomes my solace. Sinking into softness and the warm embrace of sleep. My thoughts begin to fade; the warmth devouring the cold. But then the fire begins. It’s crawling up my spine, clawing, gnawing, putrid hands tearing flesh from nerves, from bones. Chewing at the edges of my sanity. And then… almost… sleep almost finds me but I am not alone in this night. Another set of hands, still attached, still warm, still needy. A whisper curls into my ear, a cruel disguise of love. Let me cure your aching bones. Let me take what I am owed. Sleep will never come, only the slow unraveling in the dark, in the teeth of the night.