...
They come in the night like bats on the wing
whirring behind my eyes,
writhing into my reptilian brain
quickening my pulse.
…
They creep down my chest to my gut
form hard lumps that lurch
like motion sickness.
…
But I am not moving my body or mind.
It is the bats. I wait and wait
until they wrap up and rest
…
so I can too.
...
...
[The first line of this poem came to me at least a couple of years ago, as I was trying to sleep. I’d tried to write it a couple of times with no success. The concept for the rest came just a few weeks ago, ALSO as I was trying to sleep. This writing thing is sure odd sometimes.]
Disclaimer: This was originally published at ericaball.medium.com
About the Creator
Erica Ball
Trying to turn thoughts into words.
https://linktr.ee/ericamartaball
Thanks so much for reading!!
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