Turn, Twist, Wrench

 

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