Akin to being suffocated by thick coarse rope locked tightly across your chest. Being crushed by a large boulder against a rough solid surface. Finding yourself trapped between two sliding doors.
The past and the future.

My breathing quickens. I’m not in control.
I’m not in control of any of these thoughts that use my brain like a cheap, dirty hotel to lay their heads at night.
He only leaves briefly to slither down the hall to bathe in the rusted ceramic bath of ill timed words and suppressed memories. It returns, standing in front of me, staring deep in to my eyes and using my own clothes to dry of the luminous droplets of insanity that seem to tactically fall to the floor, engulfing my bare feet with tingling heat. Like tiny thorns, they prick their way through my skin and make their way into my blood stream. I stare him in the face and he just looks at me and smiles.
We both know full well that I am powerless to resist his gaze.


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