I walk into a crowded room

And I am alone
But somehow– 
         you are with me

Looming

Over my shoulder like a shadow.
                                                            A spectral presence,
					                    a reclusive poltergeist.

Yet I can feel your hands pin my shoulders 
                                                                        down,
          But you do not touch me.

Your hands wrap around my chest
and squeeze my heart like putty
	      My ears F I L L with a taunting sound

As you
		         Pluck
			             On my 	     h e a r t s t r i n g s

The eerie twang of some untuned violin rings through my eardrums    	until 

static drowns the sound


And I go 	
   	                down 
                         with it.

I drown.
	         	I drown
				              I drown.

And though I am screaming in a crowded space–
								                      no one can hear me.					
	A grocery store, 
			        A classroom,
				            A streetcar,

                                                                      my bed. 

And I am alone
But somehow–
                    when I wake up,
                                             in the middle of the night, 
                                             you are with me.
Pushing yourself inside;
Invading my thoughts.

My toes curl–
		         and not in the way they used to.

Instead, they grind and splinter on a chalkboard, snapping off
								                                        	one
								                                        	by
								                                        	one 

And I squirm,
I wriggle my writhing body trying to escape–
This hole,
This abyss,
This crater inside me.


Tar               down my lungs,
        drips 
corroding them like a cigarette
and fills me up with your child.

                    A daughter made of smoke.

But tonight,
I pant    and shake and shiver
			                      in the dark,
					                    and I drown.






They’ll find me three days later.