*

I can't get out of my own way.
the wailing hole widens upon unsuspecting days;

If contentment feelings should pour of veins,
mine wait in fear by tiny grains,
for carried voices grow louder
& heavier in downward rains;

seek not solidated space,
only new mask needed to cover weathered face;

true terror in never knowing where the source of pain resides,
accumulating upward spine,
burrowing far under ribcage lines;

when realization upchucks malice imp, mine pores holds within,
will heart change course...
jump from back of rearing horse,
&
ultimately leave defunct self baring ghastly grin?
none content lives below appeared skin.