Streaks of light kissing her right cheek gently,

As she lays exposed on the ruckled bed,

Making her unexpectedly stir and stretch out,

Running fingers through hair on her head.


Straightening one of the many tangles nestling,

In the long spaghetti like clump of gold,

Goosebumps showing all over her pale skin now,

Reacting to the creeping invasion of cold.


A glimpse of pure blue droplets between lashes,

Slowly opening letting shards of sun blind,

Lips desperate for moisture press tight together,

Covering flat teeth used to the daily grind.


Her mind is still in dreamland spinning stories,

Her prince riding day and night for his quest,

She hasn’t registered every sensation over her,

Her brain desperate to claim the needed rest.


The remnants of booze still tingling her tongue,

The dull ache of last night’s forgotten actions,  

The cold air caressing her bare unprotected flesh,

Her brain slowly processing a conscious reaction.


Her fairy tale vision fading away into cold reality,

And the damp smell entered her chilled nose,

A messy flat greeted her newly wiped clean eyes,

As her fuzzily throbbing head carefully arose.


Clothes scattered like dead leaves in a tornado lie,

On the eighties style lurid green shag pile rug,

Hiding the faux wood tiling stained with misuse, 

She wrapped herself in the sheet with a hug.


Her top was flung against the wall limply dazed,

Crumpled up as if punched to the ground,

She could see the unmistakable redness of blood,

Thankfully no cuts or scratches were found.


Now her curiosity was on the highest of alert,

She picked up her skirt with a slight groan,

More blood splashes over the flowery material,  

Then finally she spotted her beloved phone.


She ran over to it and typed in her password,

News headlines came from every website,

Wild beast attacks murderers in a city prison,

Jessica was feeling hungry again last night.


It had happened again after that fateful night,

The first time since her monster appeared,

It had saved her from capture by a bad bald man,

But this was the reoccurrence she most feared.


Selling her picturesque cottage in a wild wood,

Yes that one with the perfect picket fence,

Jessica bought a third floor flat with extra locks,

But it escaped from her planned public defence.


She suddenly registered the taste of blood,

Masked by her dessert of single malt whiskey,

Suppose she has to move somewhere safer now,  

For when the beast inside her gets all frisky.

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