Round and Round

End of October, darkness takes over.

Nothing but fog occupies my mind.

Sweaty palms and puffy eyes,

we’re always spinning, round and round.

Nothing but fog occupies my mind.

A blurred version of you clings to me—

we’re always spinning, round and round.

Hushed voices scream in empty space.

A blurred version of you grips me tighter,

two hearts pulsating in separate bodies.

Hushed voices scream in empty spaces.

Sirens are distant, then closer, closer.

Two hearts pulsate, separated by bodies.

My eyes speak a thousand words, yours silent.

Sirens keeping getting closer, closer.

“Pretty please sir, don’t put me in cuffs.”

My eyes speak a thousand words, your's silent.

I prayed for my mother’s embrace.

“Please, God, don’t put me in cuffs!”

Hours pass, dressed in a paper gown.

I prayed for my mother’s embrace.

Instead, a desolate husk beside the bed.

Hours later, removed the paper gown.

Life drained from every inch of flesh.

A desolate husk followed me home.

Sweaty palms, puffy eyes.

With life drained from every inch of flesh,

Darkness took over the rest of October.