i can always feel it coming
palms sweat, heart rate elevates,
skin crawls like worms
under the dirt
there's voices:
they say my name, both real and imaginary
and a bunch of nonsense
other sounds, like scrapes and
footprints and
heavy breathing
i get the urge to run, to scream
but i'm stuck in place, my body confuses the signals
i'll start to shake
and see eyes watching me
feel hands touching me
hold my breath so they can't hear me,
roll over so i can't watch the shadows creep
pretend they're not there
close my eyes-- count to one million
and wake with my hands at my throat
Author notes
this is what i get for heavy psychadelia.
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