Those Eyes

As I lay there, the hanging darkness suddenly turns quite tangible.
A chill scampers up my spine.
She’s there.
The ethereal haze taking a shape too familiar.
The air freezes in my throat.
God, those eyes.
Gray and dead, with sharpie black outlines.
Full of misery, yet empty
And bloodless.
She stares at me.
Seconds feel like hours.
Fighting through fear, I feign to scream.

With a banshee howl she is
Suddenly upon me.
Screeching and thrashing and twisting about.
Blazing those demon eyes, as black as the grave
And as bleak as Death’s shroud.
I swallow my screams, engulfed in a barrage of midnight hair and moonlight limbs.
And eyes, my God, those eyes will tear me apart.

The shrieking finally crescendos, and she fades
Into asphyxiating nothingness.
I’m left.
Alone.
Still motionless.
And every time I wake to tangible darkness,
And to chills scratching at my spine, I pray I’m not met
By those eyes.