Writers Jam

the horror persists it watches me from the corners, its eyes not mine its grin not mine but somehow knowing me better than i know myself i walk corridors that twist beneath my feet, floors folding into ceilings, doors that open to walls and walls that whisper secrets i do not want to hear the horror laughs soft, wet eternal as if my every step is a joke im too slow to understand and still, i persist im the hardness in the marrow, the stubborn pulse beneath fractured skin. every shiver it sends, i answer with a heartbeat louder every shadow it throws, i fill with my own darkness i grow difficult. i become a riddle the horror cannot solve a weight it cannot lift, a presence it cannot erase one day, i will kill the horror. not with fire, not with light but with the inevitability of my own being. i will stand in the room where it waits and it will find no corner of me to clutch. it will shriek because I will be a wall and a storm and a refusal all at once i do not dream of victory. i dream of persistence, the slow, patient unraveling of fear itself. and when the horror falls, it will fall into a silence so absolute, even my own breath will seem too loud.

the horror waits. i wait harder. it grins; i persist. one day, I will look it in the eyes and kill it with the weight of my own being.