Dementophobia
Part One:
It's happened twice.
you've been there twice.
and refuse to return again.
The tastes, the smell, the feeling.
it's all so close now.
and the pain hunts you.
its almost seductive.
that place.
just lingering over your head.
constantly there, so close, and within reach.
just waiting
waiting for your return
tick, tock, tick, tock,
3:31 its your primetime
your finest hour
the gates open
and the rapture begins.
This poem is about:
Our world