deepundergroundpoetry.com

STOCKHOLM SYNDROME

I.

It hovers behind, always
Breath on my neck
I turn, but to no avail

It is juxtaposed, always
On opposing ends
Of a rotary wheel

It laughs from reflection
Behind my gaunt face
And revels in my fear

It cradles me in sleep
Sound of rain soothes
Drowns the whispers

II.

Sleepwalking past carnival lights
In pseudo-conscious foresight
They stare upon me, ambiguous faces
Shadows mar the perceptive traces

Their eyes are of forgotten friends
Or those that chose to meet their ends
Rooted in soil of thoughts tucked away
Quick on heel to avail mind�s decay

III.

Evening glow fades
And pupils dilate
Don�t be afraid
I�ll love you the same

You love me in the tangled sheets
For however brief

There is beauty there
Gasping for the air
The surface ripples
And the joy returns

Don�t hate me for what I�ve done
Or what I�ve become

I am sated now
It spills over, fills the room
This is love

IV.

�I could become obsessed with it
A lust for possession would fill me with strange thoughts
But, like a slow rot of the brain, I become unhinged
Tortured by their company, I�d want to be left alone
Everything they do or say, maddening almost
Only the hunger for their flesh would remain
And yet, psycho-analyze me if you must
You will only find that I�m still quite sane
And you will realize the very nature of humanity
Is to hunger�

V.

Sleep disturbed
Winter of my warm retreat
Their tapping on the window
I let them in
They rape me into submission
I enjoy their company
The only friends I have left
They enter me
They are me

VI.

Event horizon
This is real
I won�t return
I can�t feel

Let me in