The Knot (or The Torture Garden Revisited)
Breath catching, rasping, gasping
nocturnal devils squatting on my chest
rattling pressure, ratcheting,
each night recline, perhaps, but never rest.
Staring at the ceiling, heartsick.
Lust volcanic: hammer, tongs, and error
Working my will 'til, vampiric,
My face does not meet me in the mirror.
Scorched heart beats under frozen lungs,
Made small beneath the suffocating lash.
Let me choke, swallow my own tongue,
Drown me, melt me, let me fall to ash.