I feel her stare, the kind that pierces the soul,
Her eyes, a void, devouring all traces of light.
The door creaks, and my bones tense,
Thin, pale hands wrap around the wood,
Fingers are too long, beyond nature's design.

Thin, jagged, and nails too brittle, yet sharp enough to tear.
she steps closer, every starless sky,
Shadows bleed into each other, bending towards her,
Her energy, palpable, makes my skin crawl.

They call her a fragment, a lie,
Yet her presence cling, like frost on a window,
when she's near, the temperature drops,
the shadows grow dark, they close in.

Lurking near the curtains, she waits,
Her hair, a mess, swayed with a wind that should not exist.
Her shadow, a dark cloud always hovering above me,
Pulling layers of me, that I'd buried deep.

She hums past midnight, a haunting melody.
I dare not look but cannot resist the pull,
amidst the darkness, I peek through the dark,
And there, a gleam of her sunken eyes,
Her lips stretch wide, her skin tearing apart.

Her skeletal hands reach for me,
Knuckles white, skin paper thin,
Her eye, once black, now a burning crimson,
to drag my soul into the endless abyss that she calls home.