The Haunted Hotel Project- Manchester

HHP 08-06-2018.jpg

There is something wrong in the bones of this place.

The meat of the plaster is retched with flies.

I am fragmented.

There are two versions of me that exist here.

I wake at night when the pity man comes.

He shakes his little tin box filled with teeth.

The nurses say he is harmless, but I see his children.

They boil the air.

Their shapes flicker across the walls, like ghost birds.

In my other me, this place is just a hotel.

Somewhere mundane, safe.

I pray that this a dream.

I pray that this note will be gone in the morning.

-Hidden in the bible.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s