Tag: phobia

Distortion fills my ears,
the drums,
the drums,
a cacophony
winds its way through,
auditory bombs.
 
I can feel the sound of livelihood
dripping from my ears,
these precious orifices,
here, there is so much to grin and bear.
 
Shell-shocked by the decibels,
I know that others enjoy their cause,
tainted sound waves,
an invisible cobra bites,
inserts everything an attack could possibly entail.
 
And now it wraps its way around my ankle,
my leg,
the constriction a welcome feeling as the venom
swims in my head,
 
the narrowed eyes,
the dutiful cause,
it’s attacked
and now the life it claims
is no longer mine –
would it willingly take yours?
 
Hallucinations swim before my eyes,
I’m held down,
down,
as though an unwilling sacrifice,
there now appears little tiny cobras
scattering toward me,
slivering collectively,
and I know my fate already,
outside my chest the frantic pounding rhythm
of my heartbeat grows.
 
They attack from all angles,
oh, the grief at knowing this may be the end,
suddenly a super, herculean
strength becomes of me
and I rise,
triumphant,
throwing and grabbing them off my body,
where they had suckled
and rested their vicious hungering heads.
 
I peel myself off the ground now,
escape is no longer difficult,
rushing into the wilderness,
away from the crazed cacophony
and altered visions
where I will hopefully find,
rediscover the safety of my herd.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Image by sipa from Pixabay   

Return to All Posts

Home