8.15.2023 - Ridden
/8.15.2023
Ridden
This poor flagging vehicle for my soul,
Lies heavy and aching on its bones.
No matter how I twist and splinter,
I sink further under its demands.
I eat when it forces me, no matter my taste.
I sleep too little yet too deeply.
I pry my molasses-cast feet from the bedrock,
And force my form forward into another empty evening.
At noon I smile bright as the sun above.
By midnight I morn my faded reflection.
Hunched before the mirror like a goblin,
Refraction of the demon lashing me from within.
I cannot win liberation from its menace.
Our shadows too profoundly bound.
I only soar free when locked in sleep.
Sailing like light while motionless in slumber.
In the morn, I am ridden anew,
Shuffling darkness striding the earth.
While my form burns,
And I finally smile openly,
Revealing these pointed needle teeth,
I once buried in my own skin.
What a tangled web we weave,
When we ourselves play both spider and prey.
I stretch.
I writhe.
I am within,
You now.