if you clip the wings of a dragonfly
it will contort on the wood floor, until someone kills it
flapping in desperation
unable to move properly, only to squirm
that’s what’s in my gut
I can feel its rise, like mutant ecstasy
shattering my concentration
ripping through my grey matter like gojira
rising, born out of my shadowy depths
…breathe slow.
lest the beast overtake you
fingers on collarbones tapping constantly
with the part and parcel and whole twisting inside me
digging teeth into cuticle flesh
and gnawing the inside of my mouth
like a trapped animal trying to bone-saw an appendage
sacrificing a limb to save it’s own life
the unrelenting hum in my brain, sturm und drang
warnings of danger long-past or never-was
memory, open now
I remember convincing myself of suffocation
on route four, in the morning, in the traffic,
in the car, driving to work, having to pull over
I wanted to climb out the window in the filthy truck stop
and scream
the tsunami has reached my shores
it blows out my mind
I’m acting weird and my hand starts bleeding
the blood filling the empty space between nail and flesh
there is no escape, it’s inside your head
and the congestion of people is so frightening
even familiar faces, like masks
vulgar trauma personified
till my whole self, wrenched by dread
barely cognitive
is sucked through the wind-tunnel foyer
out the door, into the night
expelled onto the porch
invisible, sweating, pupils narrow
cold air makes me shudder harder
…breathe slow.
delicately, strand of hair by strand of hair
I unmount my terror, and open my pack
Don’t you know that’s bad for you?
Excuse me, I only smoke so I can breathe.
squish and crunch
a rocket out of horror
