Senses

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I think it's getting bad again
I remember these empty hallways
Echos of past interactions

I remember these walls
I trace the rugged textures
Holes
Scrapes
Tears
From lashing out
Clawing out
Acting out 

Each one familiar
Each one done by hands that weren't supposed to hurt
My parents
My friends
My exs
Myself

I think it's getting bad again
The air seems stagnant
Stale
Sour
Sickly sweet
Too warm yet freezing cold
I can feel it in my bones

Carrying the scent of grief
Of memories
Each on different
Incapacitating
Stopping me
Drawing me back
Into their clutches

I see flashes
Like I'm back there
Standing where I've stood before
Shoes torn
Clothes dirty
Heart pounding

It seems so real
A false hope that I can change it this time
Change the plot
Screaming at the tv

But it fades
Turns off
Stays the same
And I'm stuff watching it on repeat
Over and over again

I can feel the words on my tongue
Taste the way they feel on my taste buds
Hard
Soft
Blood pouring from my mouth
Dripping down my chin
Falling onto my hands
Mixes
Molds
Then threads through my fingers

I think it's getting bad again
And I find myself walking through the hallways
No longer searching for an exit

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