The clanking of porcelain echoes in the spare bathroom, my hooves fumbling to grasp the faucet knobs.
My heart raps against my ribcage, shaking my entire body.
It is the heart of prey.
One that is always being perused.
One that is always running.
My tongue is dry, and my stomach lurches
"Run! Run! Run!" it says.
I resist, attempting to grip the base of the sink. Although my flaring nostrils steam the mirror, the quiet persistence of the stars permits me an image.
An image, of which I can only assume to be myself, that haunts me.
My eyes gleam in the darkness, having stolen the whiteness from the moon.
They reflect as they would in the headlights of an oncoming car.
Static fills my twitching ears.
The radiating orbs hurdle towards me from within the mirror.
My mind turns blank in the intensity of the light.
"Run! Run! Run!"
"No."
"Do it now!"
"I won't!"
I rear my head back and ram my antlers repeatedly into the glass.
I drill the only weapon I possess into the medicine cabinet until I scrape the brick on the other side.
It falls onto the sink, cracking the porcelain. The faucet breaks, and water sprays like a magnificent fountain.
The orbs are broken into a million iridescent shards, the white now stained a scarlet red.
The velvet that once encased my bones now drapes like elegant, red curtains,
revealing the true pride of a herbivore.
The cabinet topples to the tiled floor with a booming crash.
I crush it under my hooves, making sure those lights never have a chance to come back.
The glass spider web consumes more and more surface area, its intricacy increasing with each crack.
Colorful pills spring from their capsules, bandaids scatter, and toothpaste paints the walls.
I thrash my back legs savagely, kicking in the toilet tank.
And I don't stop.
I don't stop until I will win in my own way, not by which instinct compels me to.
For it was those very instincts that assigned my ancestors their platform within the food chain. Though my eyes were placed on the sides of my skull to seek out predators with ease,
I am no frail creature.
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YOU ARE READING
A Collection of Thoughts
PoetryA collection of mostly free verse poems and short stories. Sometimes it is nice to simply clear your head. *Trigger warnings: descriptions of disturbing themes such as: body horror, death, interactions with the uncanny, topics in biology, and suici...