My Heart...it beats...and beats...and beats.
My Heart...it
beats...and beats...and beats.
Louder...and louder...and louder.
My blood runs hot.
My mind grows numb.
The noise, the music, the chatter, the flashing lights, the heavy odors.
Swirling, mixing, churning...in my head.
Then...pain.
Excruciating...pounding...splitting.
I see eyes, millions of them.
All of them belonging to robots without souls.
Not robots...but...demons.
Fiends whose eyes burn holes into the back of my head and into my heart.
But upon being discovered they turn away, as if to hide their presence.
Then a wall of backs.
Backs or stares.
All I see, one or the other.
Blank, gray walls of pain.
Closing in...oppressive...suffocating...smothering...crushing.
Crushing my soul and my spirit.
Backs to me, faces to each other.
Breathing words like flame from their mouths.
Each word pounds on my eardrum.
Throbbing pain in my heart with each word uttered.
Words from the mouths of demons that do not understand or care to understand
None remembering what it was like to be alone, wanting conversation,
acknowledgment,
humanity, friendship.
If I stumble, that is the end of me.
They are on me like vultures.
Their laughs the screeches of Banshees.
No longer pounding at my heart, but...tearing at my soul.
Cannot...fight.
No way...to win.
No way...to survive.
My mind tells me that these fiends might one day be friends.
My heart tells me to run far, far away from the snare.
And so I run.
Screaming.
Frantic.
Cowering...hiding.
My strength does not, will not return.
The silence taunts me,
"Where are your friends now?"
I know where they are.
They are back in that room.
Their tight little circles remain unbroken.
Their exclusive groups stand strong against intruders.
All my resources were used in the first attempt to besiege their stronghold,
and I do not
have the strength to make another try.
So I am doomed to walk alone.
Doomed to be an outsider looking in.
Forever craving to be an insider looking out.
© 1999 thomas busbee

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