Something Crawls Inside

What’s happening around is not a mystery

Yet a painful song playing on the skies

Entering my eardrums and evoking anger and testing patience

While I stare at a blank page

Trapped in her thoughts I can’t describe,

And knowing what’s happening around is not a mystery.

She has ignited the sleeping, forbidden, unstable

Desires and urges I often write knowing people love

Reading and feeling the doomed, dark, and bonded

Urges, cravings, and desires wrapped sweetly

In words baked by a writer

Who fell in love with death and tried to left,

That’s all happening in free-verses and no rhymes.

The knife-stabbing noises penetrate my walled mind

And brings those murderous urges

That differ no child, women, or men—

All must die, they will die, I will yet

Her presence changes and these words seek her,

Desire her naked, sweaty, scared, tied, and wet

While I imagine and breathe heavily

Trying to hide the desires and urges

Surfacing, penetrating the moments,

The thoughts, the work of a madman.