anxiety

Eyes itch
Red and dry
Left open just a crack
Like a bedroom door
To the hallway light glowing in the night

Cotton mouth
Sticky and parched
Biting down on crumpled sheets
Like a slave-boy gnawing at the bone
Of a scrap fallen under the master's table

Sore hands
Heavy and strained
From fingers clutching invisible promises
Like the phantom pain of a limb lost
In the limbo of twilight's nightmare hour

Satiated stomach
Swollen and sour
Soothed by the sugary fantasy of frozen desire
Like a snow-cone drenched in a sad shade of blue
And locked in the hand of a childhood tantrum

Head ache
Tight and pinching
Post-it-notes of pressure wedged in the fissures of fractured memories
Like an artist who beckons a break from reality
So he can pretend his blood does not bleed onto every page he creates

Eyes close
Mouth softens
Hands cease their movement
The stomach growls
The head asks for a tumbler of whiskey