Black Magic

{Tick, tock.

Tick, tock.}

Weak & broken in this bed: I revert

       back into the womb; the lights,

       Apollo & all his sons & daughters,

       extinguished by the nocturnal shade.

{Tick, tock.

Tick, tock.}

In the security of these assorted charms,

       I

       pump out adrenaline

       in surges:

·         uneven mountain trails outline my spinal cord &

·         migraines received like text messages as I am given the signal:

                                    “this is it.”

{Tick, tock.

Tick, tock.}

Out of the box,

       a layer of duppies

       s  p  r  e  a  d  s

       out the arena:

              past memory, vying

              for connections to my wavelengths;

              they feed on my empathy in abundance;

              their last supper did not supply them well.

{Tick, tock.

Tick, tock.}

Just like voodoo,

       my irises open the floodgates of

       blackened holy water; bring forth

       flashbacks that have been suppressed

       for the good of my nation & of self.

{Tick, tock.

Tick, tock.}

As I die for many decades

      mending my impaired mind, I look up

      to the ceiling and become immortal: forever,

             [in this static space.]

{Tick.}