the electric impulses
skittering along your thrumming
nerves sing with the words
and worries and wondering
wandering through the
twisted halls of your brain
and your spine curls beneath
your skin, screaming
maybe, maybe
maybe not

everything is alive and bleeding--
the heat rises behind your
watering eyes and a little sliver
of soul slithers down your
pale cheek;
a furious muscle in your
heaving chest pounds against
its cage, desperate to free
itself from this aching machine.

never has your body been so alive:
all of you is awake now, your blood
pounding through your skull and the
world seems to throb
with every step they take away from
you (they're taking it all away from you):
it's all cracking, it's all coming apart
we're all coming apart

you try to speak: you want them
to turn around so you can promise
them the universe, anything--
but your lungs shred the words
into choked sobs and gasps and
though this is the most ancient language
of all, they can't understand you.

they disappear--
and soon after, so does the heat
so does the noise;

your heart slows, your nerves calm,
your breathing almost resembles a
rhythm. your soul stops sluicing past
your eyes and drenching your expression;
the muscles in your cheeks relax.

quiet now.

but somewhere, in the darkest
corners of those twisted halls, the
wondering wanders on; you
wonder if this lonely peace
is what you really wanted
and you can feel your spine curl
beneath your skin and scream
maybe, maybe
maybe not.