Gnaw

After hours of fiddling, out the phrase you never could have ever known.

“Infiltrates are seen,” it said,

Infiltrates? Doesn’t really sound friendly, does it?

Kind of makes me imagine of a pool of pirates with metal swords and tattered shirts

With teeth all yellow and red from betel nut cigarette

They are too many,

 Far too many they form a grimish looking, dirty green of a thing.

They are approaching, swarming gradually, closer and closer towards me

And my two inner islands my lady, with all her pleasantry, calls lobes

My lady sits by the corner, lurking forward, turning me paralyzed

In her milky white robe, with hair the color of the shadows under my eyes

She called out and right then, snatched me by the heart.

I’m trying to listen but I cannot hear a thing

Did she say I’m okay? Or that I will be?

My spine is trembling,  

Almost gnawing now as I pull away from the metal beds that spark from the fluorescent

I could see her mouthing, words I cannot remember or too bemused to utter

My heart is pounding, pulse banging in my ears

I’m getting dizzy now, a little tissy

As if I just got up from bed, still fumbling in a half-awake, half-asleep daze

I’m trying not to faint, faking brave

Coaxing self: one can never be very blessed. And this?

One have prepared for this long before, nonetheless.

Seconds crawl like millipedes without the arms

Twirling, twirling, hovering by the soil where it had dug out a hole

Dancing and dancing, rejoicing in the irony the universe has pummeled this boorish atrocity