Glitch

A lonely boy and a computer virus.

He put a hand over his mouth.

He would've screamed,

His tongue heavy and 

Ill-fitting in his mouth.

He would have tried to cry for help.

But he was already lost 

To the sickness of his mind.

His hand was damp 

And slick with sweat.

The boy smiled 

As a chill settled over him.

The puppet boy in his 

Cut jeans and red blood 

Around his shadows

Eyes raised to the sky

As he chokes out a laugh.

Reviews

[Phill Oz O'fee]

Seems he was bursting with mischievous intent - could almost see the smirk - great write! :-)