The Fever Dream

Through the dark mist

your ghostly body

appears

stepping

lightly,

darkly,

steadily.

A hum rising

softly calling.

 

Lying on a cloud

floating,

legs numb and stiff,

slowly spinning,

slowly breathing,

a stuck prisoner,

your humming calls

to me.

 

Its steady monotone: rises

sharply

like a needle poking skin,

 

Then Falls.

 

It rises stronger,

urgent,

like orphaned puppies

wail for its mamma.

 

It falls as if in deep thought,

contemplating like plato,

 

Rising again

angry

like a yelling siren

“get out the way get out the way”.

 

Back to a steady hum,

a hurricane's eye,

An eruption of pure

Rage

a lynch moabs roar.

 

My innards curl up into a ball,

Brain kicked like a ball,

my claws ready to kill.

 

The ghostly body screams,

the sound of

hell

uttered in breath.

 

My numb body fights.

The sound must be stopped,

“go away,

Go Away!

LEave ME IN PEacE!”

 

Circling calling

The hums pulsing

a spiral of pain

pulling me down.

 

The calls,

poke,

Jab,

Slap.

building, Building, BUILDING,

 

"I'm gonna die

I'm gonna die."

 

Fight the hum,

like moving mountains,

like holding lava.

 

Fighting for reality

your image fading

into the dark mist.

 

"Im safe,

Im awake."

-- Solomon Sorokin.

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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