Heck

Betrayal 

Betrayal is where Anger and Sadness meet 

Before a house on a hill. 

 

They stand at the bottom of this hill, 

Before a staircase of stone and iron. 

Staring, gazes connecting.   

 

Anger’s eyes are dry,   

Their emotions trapped in a steel cage 

Around their heart, 

Wrath aching like a pressurized burn, 

Desiring to scream. 

 

The eyes of Sadness are wet 

With tears of endless grief.  

Their throat burns as their heart crawls up, 

Choking them. 

 

Anger and Sadness stare at each other 

Before a house on a hill. 

They wait to see who will walk up the staircase 

And enter the house first. 

No matter who goes first, the other will follow. 

Once one is done, the other will take their place. 

As they always do.   

 

If Sadness were to go first, 

Then Anger would watch them ascend.   

Sadness grasped the rail and pondered their pain. 

What will happen once they reach the front door? 

When Sadness reached the midway point, 

Anger began their ascent. 

When Sadness entered the home, 

Anger waited for them outside.  

When Sadness walked in,  

It was still and empty, 

Quietness resting like a blanket, 

Muting all sound. 

Empty was the house on the hill, 

The cries of Sadness filling the halls. 

When Sadness was done crying their tears, 

Their pain echoed.  

This is when Anger walked in and carried Sadness out. 

Anger entered the house on the hill 

And found the cowards who hid.  

 

If Anger were to go first, 

Then Sadness would watch them ascend.   

Anger grasped the rail and pondered their plan. 

What will happen once they reach the front door? 

When Anger reached the midway point, 

Sadness began their ascent. 

When Anger entered the home, 

Sadness waited for them outside.  

When Anger barged in,  

It was in motion and loud. 

Inferno waited to be heard, 

Dominating everything. 

Full was the house on the hill, 

The screams of Anger filling the halls. 

When Anger was done screaming their screams, 

They weren’t heard.  

This is when Sadness walked in and escorted Anger out. 

Sadness entered the house on the hill 

And wallowed in the mess.   

 

Once all was done, Anger and Sadness descended the steps 

Together. 

 

At the bottom, they stare at each other.  

They shake hands and at last, part.    

 

In their hearts, they hope to remain strangers. 

In their minds, they know they will meet again.   

 ___________________________________________________________________________________

Death’s Love 

Dearest You, 

You had an odd obsession with me. 

You romanticized me, saw the beauty in my tragedy. 

You came to understand me at a young age. 

You learned that I am many things: an event, a consequence, a celebration, a sadness, a kindness and a cruelty. 

However, you liked to picture me as a person. 

So a person I became.  

To outsiders, I was a keeper and a taker.   

But to you, I was your lover.  

I introduced myself, 

And You didn’t run. 

We went on to live your life together.  

 

You understood me, but you didn’t come to know me until your end. 

Which is now here. 

 

Last night, 

Your heart beat your last note. 

Your lungs took your last breath. 

Your eyes captured your last sight. 

And your lips felt our first kiss. 

My kiss. 

 

The Kiss of Death.   

 

Your death tasted sickening sweet and I indulged in it 

As if it were the finest wine. 

 

In your life, you wrote about me. 

You researched me.  

But the lies didn’t keep you satisfied. 

You produced gothic tales, 

So my darkness could prevail.   

 

My darkness pulled you in. 

And the comfort you found there made you stay.   

 

Now, you are with me forever.  

I loved something that I couldn’t dare touch. 

But I can embrace you now.   

I can now write poems across your skin with my kisses.   

You suffered me slowly,  

Hoping for me to come to you quicker. 

At last, I came, and you are here now.   

 

In the tongues of true death, I must ask you. 

Am I, Death, still romantic? 

Or are you scared of me yet?   

 

Forever yours,  

Death, a Gentleman

___________________________________________________________________________________

Piggy 

how important is a  

midnight defender 

 

a stuffed pig 

dressed like a sailor 

 

ears worn from anxious  

hands 

 

as it protects an innocent 

sleeper 

 

Samantha Heck

___________________________________________________________________________________

About the Author
Samantha Heck, unfortunately, wasn’t born a vampire. To cope with that disappointment, she writes about them. In the literary sense, she is a Romantic at heart, seeing the beauty in the darkness of life. Much like a centuries-old cathedral, her soul is hauntingly Gothic, always searching for deeper meaning. She avidly reads and writes stories that are macabre, slightly disturbing, and full of midnight creatures. The legendary works of Edgar Allan Poe and Mary Shelley serve as the roots of her inspiration, roots that have since grown to include the melancholic works of Poppy Z. Brite, A.G. Howard, and S.T. Gibson. When not busy with work, Samantha can be found living inside her own imaginative mind.