The Rash Knight "Pretty princess in the tower, I will set you free. Then I will marry you, And the queen you'll be." The knight fought well Against the dragon's flames. To the valiant prince this was All a simple game. The beast lay dead at his feet. The prince raised his mighty sword. The he climbed to get the girl That he so adored. Through the window, he went in, And what a sorry sight! The poor girl was crying out, Trembling with fright. "Fair princess, do not be afraid! I mean you no harm. I have set you free from here!" He said with grace and charm. The princess sadly shook her head. "You have killed my friend. That dragon kept unwanted visitors out, And you put his #life to an end!" The gallant knight galloped off, Turned down by the maid. The princess stayed in the tower, Scared, alone, afraid. Do not act before you think. Don't judge before you know. Remember well this tragic tale Before you strike a deadly blow. Not all dragons are wicked And at pain and blood delight. Not all things are fair, And not all kings are right. Not all fair princesses Need to be rescued. That's the moral of this tale: Think before you do.

Floating Lights Twinkle, twinkle, little star, So high up in space. Do you watch me down on earth? Can you see my face? Are you peering through the void? Is the#moona spy? Why is that strange golden orb Burning in the sky? Where have the monsters gone? They're no longer under my bed. Have they made their way outside, In our world instead? What is false and what is true? How can we tell what's real? It's much too hard to try to know When all you can do is feel. So floating lights, up above, Please just let me know. Is this world much too mad, Or do I just imagine it so? [A quick Night Vale inspired #poem to try to come back to Opuss!]

Wanderlust Wanderlust, wanderlust Turning your heart to rust. Far off places, far off lands Slipping through the sieve like sand. Ancient stories, tales of yore, Legends of times long before. Wanderlust, wanderlust. Everything turns to dust.

M. O. N. S. T. E. R. M.onsters in your closet, O.r demons under your bed. N.ight is when we come out. S.caring people, killing things. T.errified of me yet? E.vil creature of the dark. R.eally, be afraid. ##acrostic

Don't Look Up When I was little, the nightmares started. I'd cry, "Mama! Mama! The monster was on the ceiling!" And she'd turn the light switch on. There was no monster. It was alright. I didn't have to be afraid. But I'm 14 now. Mama doesn't tuck me into bed. She doesn't know that when I turn off the lights and look up, I saw a demon. Black veins bulge from its chalk white face. Black bloodshot eyes peer out. Cracked lips frame rotting yellow teeth. Teeth that were fangs. But if Mama knew I saw it there, she'd send me to a therapist. Or the madhouse. Alright, I seem screwed up as hell, but last night, it was more gruesome, more horrific. It said my name. It bared its rotting fangs and whispered, "Elizabeth Stell." I didn't sleep at all last night. Tonight I should be fine. Tonight I just won't look up. Because that's where it is. It's always up above me. ••• I looked up. I said I wouldn't, but I did. And it was there, whispering again. "Elizabeth Stell, you're mine," it said. It's voice is like oil: smooth, dark, thick. Whenever I think about it, I feel a tingle on the back of my neck. I want to look up. It feels like its up there, watching me. "You're mine," it said. If that's not enough to scare you half to death, I don't know what is. That's what I am, you know. Half dead. I don't sleep anymore. I hardly eat. I'm scared half to death. •• It's everywhere. It's gnawing at my very spirit, every bone in my body. Every nerve is alerted. When I look in the mirror, I see it. When I look out my window, I see it. Hell, I even see it in the window of the ice cream parlor. Every person who walks by is the thing. What the hell am I supposed to do now? How can I go on if I'm claimed by a demon? It haunts my every step. Each breath I take, each little shift on the earth, I'm closer to it catching me. To being its victim. To it killing me. Unless I do it first. •• The noose was hung on my bedroom ceiling. If you don't look up, you'll never see me hanging there. So don't look up.