Every night I hear it call to me
from across the room,
the tintinnabulation of its twin tines

enticing me to indulge; threatening,

promising to keep its hold on me forever.  

 

My hands shake, my mind shakes,

my emotions shake, quiver, and crumble, 

f

 a

    l

      l

        i

         n

           g down into the deepest, darkest cavern,

where the light is fake,

and minds plays tricks on the eyes,

showing pictures that aren’t really there. 

As I stumble to the walls,

searching for reality amongst the shattering darkness,

that forbidden voice seizes me and

as it plunges me down,

it comforts me, and silently coaxes me to cease my search. 

Will it always have this hold on me? 

 

You deserve better, I say to myself,

a mere whisper in the crushing hailstorm of thought. 

You deserve better, I say

as I tumble out of bed, finally yielding to my sin. 

You deserve better,

as I reach the bookshelf

and kneel beneath. 

You deserve better,

as I hastily reveal the treasured

nightmare that haunts my daydreams. 

 

Veins pounding, heart flying,

mind racing and sweating from the effort of merely keeping me alive,

straining against all instinct and thought. 

Filled to the point of breaking, I crave release

and find it

in a screaming tine pressed so close it melds with skin and stress

all

trickles

out. 

 

Mind empty, thoughts forgotten, I know

it will always hold on to me

and though I insist I deserve better,

perhaps,

this time,

I don’t.