By Chad Hollis
Night descending
over me
Death is raping
raping my dreams
with stiletto nails
of ice ripping
down my back
I feel the anchor
fall, dragging
deeper and deeper
I feel the flesh
breaking under
the pressured weight
And the fabric of night
suffocates with cellophane
sadness. I cannot
breathe. I cannot
scream
And black tears
fall against
the panes of my
soul. And the shuttered
doors fly open
without release
I am drowning
in liquid submission, this
ascending wave
of helpless violation
And trapped is
my soul. Trapped am
I in this wretched
position, the prisoner
of this flesh, the
occupant of every
cell
And I feel death breathing
in climactic rhythm
and I can no longer
deny the growing
absence of declination
at this sinister
ecstasy, this
faithless bliss. Until,
finally, I yield
to the throbbing
truth. And I
wait
for death
to come
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