A dark tunnel with sharp edges
Everytime you move
The piercing stab takes the breath away
The thick silent air screams
A thousand voices in my head
A constant buzz swarming like killer bees on the attack
Light is the enemy, darkness is the god of comfort
Sensitivity is the master and the executioner
Skin becomes pins which become hot molten wax
Which becomes fireworks of deathly sorrow
The feet swell like a battered body
Excrutiatingly trying to gasp its last breath of normality
Ten men with steel rods unleash their hate across my back
Leaving irreversible aching
The head explodes, then explodes again, then again
Like the most deadly terrorist attack on the mind
The legs feel broken in ten places, unable to move
So heavy they become weightless trying to transcend this world
My hands immersed in a climactic ache of giant proportions
Like the hand of Buddha holding the weight of a billion souls
Pain is the enemy that plans its attack carefully
The psych screams in terror and tries to forget, tries to shut down
But lacking mercy it leaves the body and watches from above
It waits for the body to forget
Then finds its way home
Author Zoë Watson