As I stroke you, I feel the darkness again—
wanting to use you to rain down her pain.
You cut into me with an intensity like no other.
Every time I touch you, I’m jello. I quiver.
In the dark, I hold you; a smile creases my face.
Joy pours out of me; all sadness erased.
Tomorrow, I whisper, as you shine in the gloom.
Tomorrow, you and I will be one with the moon.
You’ll meet her, and she’ll turn all red.
I laugh – sliding my knife under the bed.


               Written By

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About Dead Donovan (179 Articles)
You look a little pale....oh!...forgive me! My name is Dead Donovan. SlasherMonster is devoted to the dissection of horrific material: articles, short-stories, poems, photography, graphic art -- the stuff that makes your heart shrivel.

30 Comments on Tomorrow

  1. Never bring a knife to a bed fight!

    Your creativity terrifies and mystifies.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Knives in bed? sounds dangerous…

    Liked by 3 people

  3. Your imagination has a viciously sharp edge to it, ..scary ..

    Liked by 4 people

  4. I love the way your mind works.

    Liked by 3 people

  5. That’s quite a cutting pillow talk.

    Liked by 2 people

  6. And from a knife’s edge
    the darkness does flow.
    A wicked poem Rose. I love it. 💀

    Liked by 3 people

  7. How lovely 🙂 love the way this guy is thinking 😛

    Knife, shine, slit,
    Blood, drops, gasp.
    Maniac’s heart beats,
    I’m sorry, but I must…

    Liked by 1 person

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