Author: Gordon S. Bowman III

Cackle gulp sneeze he, he, he. Listen

To my aching, rattling my cage oh so

Impatiently. My anxiety boils to a

Peak, overflowing onto my chair. My

Body shakes until it hangs in distress.

The calling wolves in the distance

Echoes from outside the door. So

Dark, it seems. It’s just you and me.

Me, with my nightmares and

Haunting memories. You, with your

Mirror, checking for anything out of

Place. We are quite the company for

Each other. Sin babbles like a brook.

I am quite the harbinger of bad news.

If only there was a solution for my

Emptiness and headaches. Try a hat

On for size. It squeezes the scalp,

Traps heat, leaves a red mark on the

Forehead and hair sticking up. Such a

Waste. So many tears in your jar.

Crossing my arms and legs,

Gathering myself in anticipation of my next move.

My guard is certainly up,

In heightened alertness of what you might say, or not say.

I’m cold and nervous.

Frustration binds me in a twisted knot.

Can you read my mind? I wonder.

I can stay in this position for hours,

Or until my muscles start to cramp.

Give me a match. Let me light up a cigarette.

Haze eases into the room.

What was once a glaring bulb,

Now scatters and ricochets into pieces.

I feel a creepy film cover my skin.

Wrapped up in dust and grime,

I tighten my body in the dry air.

I want to scream, but I swallow my revulsion.

Am I trapped in this cruel predicament forever?

I close my eyes, wishing I was somewhere else.

To escape from this stranglehold is my vision.

One drop of moisture is all I ask.