A devastating, white-hot heat
Radiating from my pores,
Darkness, my stomach and mouth
Filled with mold and moss,
Pupils swelling to the size of sockets
Murky as big, black thunder clouds
From such a great distance
With sticky, moist breath on the nape of my neck,
Every fiber, hair, small-insignificant
Particle standing in a scared salute
Two hands emerge, one covers my mouth
My nose, slowly forcing stale,
Menacing air in and out of my
Lungs without reprieve,
The other searching my breath
For my weaknesses
The areas of my person that
Flee, freeze, or fly sparked by
The mere grace of a fingertip
Slow, steady, damp splotches:
Acid oozing from black holes,
Burning my cheeks,
I turn towards the fire
My eyes wide open,
A disturbing realization
One is certainly the hand of a stranger,
The other, sad cruel truth,
Is my own

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem