Tap. Tap. Tap.


The rain water was beating off
the glass and sill with growing
intensity, darker clouds creeping
in, from all directions,
pushed by the foulest winds.

A storm in the making,
A Maelstrom in brew,
the splash of cars fighting
the currents, traveling through
was the only other sound.

My head, warm and dry
pushed deeper into the pillow,
the quilt, a cocoon of heat
and security, gladly surrendering
to the heavy eyes, weighed with sand.

The room was, otherwise, silent
the slow breaths pulling and pushing
the golden stance, the slight
creek of the bed adding to
this array of disturbance.

My mind was in the rain,
flooded with every possible outcome
for any experience. Emotions,
memories and doubts fell like
the hail and sleet, Silent.

The crack of every feeling,
now surging through me, surrounding
until hard to breath, each recall of
each time filled me with the urge
to just call it quits

The mere idea of the old
times made my gut wrench
like a sea sick sailor, stranded
on a sinking ship, bound to
drown in this ocean of emotion.

The laughs that filled the air,
fake and mocking as they were,
are one of thousands of instances
I am submerging in, flailing
and fighting only worsens my case.

My own mind at mutiny with me,
defying me, digging up the
forgotten or abandoned events
in time and holding them to me,
sharp and close, a cutlass to throat

Eyes wide open, a breath escapes
from my lungs, enough fresh
sea air to last a lifetime.
My bed, My boat, My mind, My crew,
I, the Captain, Aye, The Captive