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...