∆∆∆
There is a fear that grips me, A future foretold in a high school psych class Which planted the seed in my mind That madness can manifest At the peak of my life And stay for good, Like an unwelcome house guest — No one else can see.
It starts slowly the voice said, The sinking descent from under the covers Into the scarlet rage And the seven seas of sorrow. Days spent watching the hours slip away While your mirror image twists and distorts like Dorian Gray.
Now when I bury my face in my pillow With fists clenched tight, I can’t help but ask “Is this it?” To my offstage God.