Pandemic Panic

Bella Wilson, Contributor

They want an answer, but my mouth stays dry.

Cold sweat grips my spine as they block the door.

Eyes crave a response as they stare at fears.

My vision grows blurred as I hear silent cries.

Find somewhere to hide. Get passed the critics.

Thoughts churn and rise and blend into sludge.

Alone in the cave, I choke on my sighs.

A dim light from nowhere hits a mirror.

I try to move, but get held down by the ground.

The darkness holds me tight, summoning the glass.

I can’t see clearly, but the eyes meet mine.

The only thing I see is the looking glass.

I am alone and untouched. But the dark has hands.

The shadow in the mirror is looking at me.

 

The creature in front of me is enraged.

Yelling, screaming, but only I can hear her.

I huddle into myself, trying to block the noises.  

Hands grab at my face, stealing my breath.

Stop. You cannot run from your shadow.

You cannot escape what you truly are. 

I try to retaliate and break the mirror.

The shards twist themselves into new mirrors

And surround me in this new horror.

 

The thoughts that boiled within rise into my throat. 

It burns as it claws its way out of my head.

The words that built up became tar. 

I try to hold it in but the faucet’s not turning.

Black ink and tar stains the floor.

I can’t catch my breath. Through the tears.

Through the pain.

 

  • Bella Wilson