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Dead and Alone
October 31, 2013
Cold shoots up my spine,
like a bullet through my forehead.
Numb fingertips as cold and,
as sinister as a serial killer.
Frosted sweat gleams on my brow,
creeping down my face,
like a murderer in the alley way.
Tingling feet shaking like the victim,
left to die.
Purple iced skin the same shade,
as the dried blood in a puddle.
Just like the murderer that killed me,
I sit here as cold, and disturbed as can be.
© Sarah M., Blairsville, PA
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