#halfoween

[ghostedlulu]

148 days til halloween!!

[elvira-macabre]

Such an eventful night, my darlings!

I wish you a happy Walpurgis Night and blessed Beltane, witches and warlocks! Also there are important news - we're halfway to Halloween, time to step up the preparations for this years festivities!

[weshallcleansetheworld]

[mannyblacque]

Poster for the 2nd annual Halfway to Halloween Hootenanny!

Visit ObscuraLBC.com for more info.

(I am not affiliated with this event. I just love Halloween.)

[somethingsomethingtralala]

🎃🕷🍂 We are officially halfway there 🍂🕷🎃

[jennaandersenart]

[roselinbooks-official]

My review of Man, Fuck This House (with new art by @aerielart) is now public!!

[toxic-gin]

He is very excited for Halloween. 🎃

[tarabyte3]

🍁🕯️🎃 Happy Halfoween! 🎃🕯️🍁

To celebrate it being both halfway to my favorite day of the year AND National Poetry Month, here is my last poetry post: Horror Edition!

(Please mind the content warning tags! Also there are more collages below the cut to really get you in the mood)

The Harvest

When the night falls

and the harvest comes

we huddle in our beds,

covers pulled tight

to our trembling chins,

and wait. Every creak

or moan of wood

catches our breath.

A struggle for silence. A hope

our blood-soaked offerings

and fires were enough

to satiate their endless

ancient hunger.

Our rituals used to be joyous

occasions of mead and meat

and congregation,

before the things came

and then by morning light

we found splintered doors,

gore splattered beds,

and trails of ichor

winding into the forest.

In those first few years

we dared not look out

our curtains for fear

of catching their eye,

but some saw upright shadows

pass their windows

with a shambling gait

and spindly limbs.

Not beasts, but worse

than men. No weapons,

no charm or barricade,

no prayers to God

could save our souls,

and we dreaded the dying

light—their coming.

We left the pigs out first,

tied to posts in the town square,

huddled and confused.

It helped. Lessened the hunt,

but didn't end it.

Not by half.

Then we tried the cows

as well, and still we heard

the screams and pleas

and grinding growls.

We had no choice

except to choose.

The harvesters were coming

and it was better to prepare,

to know how the night

would go than to leave

our loved to slaughter. A mercy

to die by the blade

before the tearing started.

Our rituals now are solemn,

lotteries and funerals,

towering pyres, sacrifice

and chanting to appease

these old gods of the long dark

and death. We are our own

shepherds and farmers,

our own flock and crops,

and so we must tend our own.

Every night I awaken—

before dawn with the notion

that I am not alone.

There is a shadow with me.

Its eyes peek from

a dark corner crack,

beckoning with a wispy

curl of a finger.

Yet it is not temptation

I feel, but terror,

bone itching

and bile roiling

with a ringing in my ears

like the scream

of a tea kettle

This blackness creeps

ever closer.

Yesterday it brushed

the fringe of my rug.

Tonight it's reached

my curtains.

I know it hunts me,

ever patient,

to blanket me in nothing.

I would run,

you see,

If I didn't know

this shroud is a distraction.

A dare to rouse me

to my feet.

For in my full length mirror

by the hall door,

fading in the moonlight,

I see the face under my bed

and how it smiles.

Not a Tree

There is a branch outside

my window where no tree

grows. Yet its twig fingers

scrape and probe the screen

for a weakness,

an opening

to pry ajar

like an oyster.

Inside I am meat.

I am prey

to this ash, this bark

crusted limb

that covets skin—

seeks to know

my bare limbed flesh

and crush my bones.

It creaks. It yearns, aches,

to slip its muddied roots

throughout my ribcage,

twine its way between

my fingers and toes.

To feel how I writhe

beneath it as my

sinews decompose.

It cannot help

but consume me

to feel alive and grow

from my absence.

It must be a tree

that knocks, that sways

palm shaped shadows

upon my bedroom wall.

What else can reach

a second story window?

That is not the question

that lashes through my mind,

but rather: did I remember

to turn the lock?

[ashyblondwaves]

HAPPY HALFOWEEN!

183 days to go! 💀 👻 🎃

[ghostedlulu]

173 days til halloween!!

[curlyburp]

[batstitchnerdycrossstitch]

HAPPY HALF-O-WEEN! Since we are 50% to Halloween you get 50% off all my Halloween/goth/Spoopy patterns! April 28th & 29th only! Plus check out the brand new pattern available tomorrow!!

[mannyblacque]

via Corin Distin • Instagram • TikTok

[elvira-macabre]

Happy Halfoween, dear ghouls and gals!

183 days till/183 days to go to our favorite holiday.

[beenbettercomic]

“Not Halfoween”

Happy Valentine's Day!

-Jimmy Purcell.