A Skeleton Hand

A skeleton hand to crawl at your throat

A monster you thought lived in your closet or in the dark

A room where the only voices tell you to take a pill. take a drink.

don't you dare feel.

If only you could just stop.

Stop shaking.

Stop every sickening movement.

Every arduous blink.

Your eyes are so heavy and you wonder when the lids will shut

I cannot shut you.

I cannot shut you up.

I am at the centre of a room, being tortured for sport.

My wrists shackled and my feet bound.

A twisting and writhing body just waiting to be found.

There's an empty hole at my core that wants so much to be full.

Be full. Be full. As though your will has any control.

The emptiness aches and I am growing used to the pain.

I watched a show about the universe today and wept.

I wept for all the truths I will never know. And all of the truths that I do.

For all of the hundreds of billions of galaxies, this is the one where I'm losing you.