The night crawled on me.
Through my scalp.
Along the curves of my throat.
An abyss had come to stay.
Foreboding and antagonistic.
Clinging like a flea.
Promises swung about in the electric heat.
‘There are things we must not repeat.’
Scarlet rivers flowed with the falling pipe dreams on the wall.
Two worlds without dominions clashed.
My chain smoking amazon had taken a coffee break.
Leaving no mystic to take her place.
Hanging atop my vertigo tower.
Reduced to taking a fall.
I sprinted away.
‘I may not be able to run. But I can still crawl.’