Fear

It rises slowly, catching in my throat
The bile, thick, putrid, unable to swallow
A stench, repulsive, permeates my senses
Helpless, shaken, frozen in place

My eyes closed, or are they
I can’t see. Don’t want to see, afraid
Something evil has invaded my space
And I do not want to give it shape or form
I already know its name.

In my imagination I sink, cower
Drawing refuge from the shadows
Mind racing, shutting out rational thought
Seeking instead avenues of mental escape
It is too late. I am devoured
By fear.

About oldmainer

I am a retired manager living in Southern Maine and a would be writer of poetry, narratives, short stories, and random opinions, and that's how Oldmainer was born. Recently, I decided to try an experiment. I added photography to the mix, using only a cheap cell phone with a limited camera and the editing software that came with it, and added the blog site Inklings at poormanspoet.wordpress.com to showcase the results. So, feel free to use whatever you find interesting or worthy, but please honor the terms of my copyright when and if you do. They may not be much, but they are still a piece of me. I appreciate your checking me out and hope that you find something that will encourage a return visit. Thanks for stopping by.
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