There is a monster in me.
It is gnawing at my flesh.
I can feel it creeping along my insides.
Waiting, waiting ...
Yet no word comes.
anticipation
expectation
dread
"Come, come" I beckon it hither
But it stays away
out of my reach
unknown to me
strange.
Hysteria loosens itself from my insides.
It floats up, settles in my throat.
Strangling, I shout without words
to no-one's ears
and only hear myself saying nothing
responding to emptiness.
imagined fears
make-belief threats
bodiless shapes
And I keep wait ...
