:: Tailspin ::

Boredom cracks
Like a skin-split kiss of blood
Spitting venom.
I feel the chains of old, cutting into bone;
The tedium tick of the eyeless clock
Mocking, rocking to an infinite sentence,
Judged by nothing, yet locked at will.
I feel the strangled choke
Of waiting, baiting, endlessly:
The bane of my wellfed existence
Sucking dry,
My light.