The rattling of the fan kept neat rhythm with
the tumultuous drumbeat in my chest-
tapping the insides of my skull,
flies twitching their wings against the wall.
thick with black noise and gray despair,
collected heavily in my throat-
I began to inhale,
this moment, this hour: the era of defeat.
I crawled back and forth in my skin,
wrestled with my own insanity
believing the world,
and the madness thereof
had broken me,
taken over me, and left me a shell, a skull, nothing more.
All the words I had ever thought to say
stuck like daggers in my eyes,
causing them to bleed humanistic bleach.
The cleansing process, remission of sins.
Though it was dreadful to watch
the flies stir and drag
the words right out the window,
yes I admit it, right out the window, up
toward a great big, blue eye!
My redemption stolen without so much as a good-bye.
Alone, once more,
the sunny afternoon quaked in my soul