Category Archives: poem, poetry, consciousness, horror

DREAD

your brain
is the
Event Horizon

your brain
is
Mulholland Drive

is
the Overlook Hotel

I sit outside
the House of Leaves
waiting
for the door
to open

for something upstairs
to shuffle out
of stupor

switch on a light
show that
there is
at least a flicker

prove that
it is a Cartesian proof
of conscious existence

the thought that I own
this intensity of dread