Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

Mind's Panic

Push open the door and again I arrive here,
wishing to be there in the sunlight of the day
instead of in the musical dark of night,
not wanting to fall again,
my face printed in the dust,
dirty tears painting my cheeks black.
Dreams as tight and loathful as rope;
bungee cords biting into ankles and wrists,
large welts forming where the cords leave their mark,
red as cherries.
Locked in a dark room,
the walls pressing menacingly in from all sides.
Breath leaves thin lungs but doesn't return,
the walls suffocating and choking me.
The lights flicker and die.
Thoughts become fuzzy
as fists pound against unfeeling walls of stone,
frantically trying to escape the constraints
of my mind's prison.
Rough and different-colored rocks jut out against my face,
menacingly threatening to crush me.
Racing thoughts of mystical beings
flying with bat-like wings of black;
seemingly eternal darkness of the blackest make.
Crazed and terrifying faces,
the only visible items in a blind world.
Thoughts of days past flicker through a mind used to deceits and lies
as it turns against itself, against me,
all its defenses twisting and turning
like a worm out of dirt and in sunlight.
My heart pounds too hard and fast as eyes widen
and colors explode through a series of horrific paintings and images.

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