The storms brewing up a big downpour
Odd encounter with the inside of my skull
Cranium matter knocking at my soul
The waves batter violently, nausea, ad nauseum
Takes control, Lost to an apathy a listless inner
Sanctum possessed, crawled like a beetle
in gestation, worm-holed larvae, no rhyme
No reason strikes to the far reaches, inside,
calling my name outloud, small little voices,
drown, drown, drown this storms battering like rams
swinging hammers, pounding viciously
At the gray matter.
@Jay Mora-Shihadeh
Photo by Matt Hardy from Pexels
Leave a Reply