❌WARNING❌ Do not read if you hate graphic fiction. Dark Poetry

FINAL MOMENT – dark poem


Whooshing in my ears, what’s that?

Blurred vision but a lighter space ahead.

Wall cold, damp with condensation,

Slides away beneath desperate fingertips.


Slow trickle of warm liquid down my cheek,

Teeth clatter as gasping breaths escape.

Knees find splinters on old floorboards,

Keep going before the next blow comes.


Ankles twisted and raw against the rope,

New tears increase the blindness.

A groan from behind, he’s not dead,

I should have used more force.


Round the corner, crawling, a kitchen.

Broken chair where it started.

I hear a thud, ‘Fuck you bitch’

Reach for the chair leg, shaking fingers.


Ice cold on my head, water, the vase,

Pungent stems drop around me.

Weapon grabbed, I turn on my back,

He lunges and drops; into his neck,

It pierces his skin as his voice does the air.

Fury from somewhere deep comes.

I stay focused and twist it more.


oooh, where did that come from? Too much cheese Grommit.

Cup of milky tea anyone; sugar for shock? 🤣🙈

I’ve even got custard creams.

(Shall delete if less than 10 likes by midnight, pwonise 💋)