I think I might be

getting worse

seeing things

out the corner of

my eye

focused towards

the all engulfing


lashing out

thin tendrils


full with spite


cthullian mammoth


crushing my ribs

forcing the last ounce of air

from my lungs

wheezing out

a pitiful wail

as a death rattle

echoes in

my swollen throat

this creeping dread

encroaches on

the shoreline of

eroding sanity

washing away bright grains

of sun bleached surface

revealing darkness of

pumice stone and

bed rock

less than skin


i am the saboteur

of my own agendas

the lobbyist endorsing

unfavorable policies

selling myself out

with no purpose

i am cold



and no longer find

the sweet joy of laughter

in the isolation of

self seriousness

i am an island

no more man

lost to time

too innocuous to be plotted

on any map

i too have lost myself

within these cold

choppy waters

i could walk in

who would stop me

stumble into

thick brine

drink deep the salt water

pickling myself


as sea creatures

harvest my remains

at least then

i’d no longer endure

the horrors my own mind

subjects me to

how vile it is

that he misremembers

so often

constructing facts of

patched fictions

how it takes such

sick satisfaction in

causing me to ruminate

to exaggerate long forgotten ills

while i succumb to fear

anxiety induced


only here in the dark

with music in the background

drowning out these


suffocating thoughts


like tinnitus

do I find the relief i