Benzodiazepine Mirror

 

late evening fingers claw my skin

with hunger, constrict my veins—

yet i cannot scream,

some creature devoured my tongue,

 

my brain blares

some loud non-verbal horror

(drapes of my cave cannot block),

 

my breaths, tiny,

timid against my pulse,

pull me into my stomach;

 

most frightful mirror

shrieks some impure screech

(chew my shredded ears

 

my forehead forgets walls—

strength denied me

this invisible tremor)

 

my mind fell weak,

shrunk into its corner,

and left me to dry

into late evening.

 

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