(last week sometime…)
216am with fire in my skin.
Facially distorted, electric from within.
Unnatural jitters, constant and eager.
Clench a need to scream. Seek a place to run but there’s nowhere to leave.
My body’s a prison without any keys.
Kneeling by the bed I just pray for release.
Head exploding, pounding, rolling.
Ever decreasing circles whilst at the point of boiling.
A piranha quipped bow.
Talking in tongues where will the arrow go?
I’ve got a feeling it’s leaving and it’s off I regret.
To forget I’m the target and tap out before impact.
Oh give me rain, give me clear cold rain pouring in buckets, not even cascading just drenching in mountains, removing the pain.
Euphoric endeavours, realities collide.
Whatever the liquid tear pain to goodbye.
Show me the ocean with it’s tides and it’s fro’s.
It’s gangly motion with it’s high’s and it’s lows.
Smell the salty air, hear the seagulls sing.
Handle crispy seaweed, recall anything.
Sleeping bad when camping. The fur inside the neck.
The warmest of survival bags I haven’t forgotten yet.
Dew from on the bivouac,
Ice cold right down my back.
Cannot more the the home will break.
No time to react.
Build a sanctum in my mind.
A hit a castle, a home a place refined.
No coffee that strong and I’ve no energy to drive.
There’s drivel behind my mass of meaning or perhaps the other way is true.
I can’t tell for seeing double, and all I see is you.
© G.P Williamson 2017