crystalline droplets
squirt into my hands
blanching the dirt
but seizing upon red cracks
and invisible sores
searing the nerves like
sadistic gnomes prying
them open with crowbars
and crystal salt
my brain shrieks with agony
infuriating
inflaming
dissolving my hands
with purifying strength
building
more upon more
into a silent scream
of
======
STOP
======
YOU
ARE
KILLING
ME
surviving only because
“this too
shall pass”
and then …
more quickly than it came …
it fades away
away
away
away
falling
to nothing
as if
it never
happened
at all
––––––––––
Ethan Cunningham writes “because if he doesn’t he will explode and die.”
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