Writhing madly on the floor
Flailing bruised, almost broken fists at the walls
Kneading the bricks with stubs,
Frail nails split deep past the cuticle.
The effort falls futile
Can’t even scratch my eyes out
So I can’t see my pain.
Can’t rip the chemical chains
From these petrified veins.
I’d use them to string myself from the gallows
If only they’d hold.
Collapse to the ground, traverse like a worm,
This bout’ll kill me if it kills me
If I don’t die first.
Maniacal jaws-of-life reverse in my stomach
A revolting twist of an intestine
Bends me like will, weak human will.
The guttural squeezing subsides
With a wimp’s wheezing sigh,
Clear bitter tears harden on my lids
Sisyphus welded them open,
No rest for the wicked
No weeping for the wasteful.