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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Melodrama · #1989365
When we are at our wit's end, and our mind turns to darkness...
Glass....shattering...
Popping in my ears,
I hear the whistle.
Dust grips my chest,
and I nearly choke on
a lung. When...when...

Is this going to end?
Beams throw themselves
to the ground around me,
I grit my teeth as a piece
of wood knocks on my foot.
Where...where...

Did this all begin?
After a couple of storms and
a tornado already, I'm not so
sure. I could be dreaming...
or is this a picture of the nightmare
that roams in my heart?

I hear the glass shattering again.
But it is not so much the glass that
falls from the shelves as it is the
shattering of my soul, my very being.
Then I see the blood. Scarlet river that
bleeds out my spirit and chills my bones.

I gasp. It is real. I try to stop it. No avail.
I try to wake myself up. I'm still here, and
the whistling is getting louder. I can't move.
I can't breathe. I try to scream and nothing
comes out.

I look up in my struggle and see a flying
beam coming to guide me into...complete
darkness.
© Copyright 2014 Elizabeth Anne Sullivan (autumnsong at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1989365-Shatter