Broken Glass

This poisonous fog is evocative

I long for catharsis

resolution to this narrative

a task which stands arduous...

this nefarious corner of my mind

holds shattered memories

so labyrinthine...

dark figures dance across broken glass

and from behind

the hairs on my neck prickle

and someone covers my eyes...

my feet squash the moist ground

in fear driven panic

but I am caught blind

feeling about for a short limerence

in which I can hide

and I cannot call for help

when the person who tied this noose

is none other than myself

I lay awake in my inglenook

I jump at the sound of a child's scream

and though I cannot say for sure 

I know deep down

that child is me...