My mind stills uneasily
As a tremor of fear turns rational thoughts
Into creeping doubts.
Sore melancholy blossoms from my spine,
and warm emptiness trickles down my sternum
from the aching wound in my chest.
My breathing slows in the growing stillness
lest the slightest noise might awaken the monster
lurking in the darkness of my heart.
The constriction in my throat only encourages
My desire for silence.
And I try to lie as still as possible
To keep the hurting from me.
Until the ache becomes unbearable
and I find myself being carried from the room
By restless feet - like tiny horses fleeing a storm.
My mind is nearly blank with the cloudiness,
And I follow fixedly as my poor body
Attempts to pacify my soul
and sooth my mind
With the gentle rock of its pacing steps.