hideous

just something short I wrote.

In the trees the monsters lie. High up in the polluted Louisiana sky. With branches reaching out like beggar hands. The monsters love to lie in the palms of those hands. Dirty rotten wings are attached to their backs, with a glowing circle above their unwashed heads. They love to cry, in the middle of broken nights. Their crys break the skys, shattering the dark purple like glass. The screams last for hours ruining my precious slumber. They scream, scream, and scream into my ears it sometimes seems. I hide underneath sheets of metal gray, fearful of the days. The monsters lay frozen limps of animals at my door. I am afaird, so deeply afaird.