This monster was
born in my belly.
It will not stop moving
stop rolling
stop devouring me
from the inside out.
It slides just beneath
my skin like
rancid quicksilver;
spilled and sour
painting the walls of my self
yellow and brown
twisting my spring
into a dead and wasted autumn.

My mouth has wilted into
a frown and my mind
cannot find a thought
worth keeping
my hands shake like
mewling kittens and my eyes
are red from tears.

I am empty of
emotion, though hate
prowls the edge of reason
and tests the borders of my
flagging mind. Anger
leaps up intermittently,
an inconsistent flame
fueled by winds of blame
and dampened by guilt and honor.

I am in pain,
I am torn between past and future
Ripped between now and then,
caught between us and them.
Though we should be whole
our cracks are beginning to show
like wrinkles in bad lighting.
And it will not be long
until we fall, one by one,
like bricks from buildings
until all that's left is the frame
and a memory of our dream.

AcB 5.3.00