Original Gothic Poetry

Girl



Washed up on my door
too dark, wet, and freezing
stinking of booze and vomit
busted lips, two black eyes, swollen face

She didn't wake up when
I hauled her inside
took her jacket and shirt
put her in bed like a sick kid

She didn't wake up
after breakfast or
that afternoon or
anytime before she died in my bed

I called the police
No, I don't know her
No, I thought she was ok
No, I don't know her

Well what do I do now
go to work?
take a day off?
move?

I take a day off
I get really drunk at home
I call in sick
and stay sick a few days
and throw away the sheets
and don't sleep

I guess it still bothers me.




- The ghost at Stone Rope Keep