Monday, 28 March 2022

Taphophobia

 


I awaken.

Pitch black,

no light penetrates my eyes.

I try to move, my body cries.

Cramp grips limbs

and twists.

Arms crossed over my chest,

a sharp sting aches my wrist.

 

I try to move,

get some feeling to dead legs.

Pins and needles,

throbbing head.

Arch my back,

head hits a solid surface instead.

Lungs struggling for breath.

Tentatively I stretch my arm,

Bang

I hit a wall sturdy and firm.

 

Feel cold wood against my skin,

It's so cramped and closed in.

I wish I could spread,

claustrophobia ringing alarms in my head.

Straining arms,

muscles popped and ripped,

I try to push.

Nothing.

Not an inch.

 

My strength is sapped,

I can't find a way out.

I'm stuck here trapped.

It suddenly dawns.

Buried.

I’m buried.

Breathing too hurried,

deep underground.

Six feet.

Enough to muffle any sound.

 

My face sunken and dry,

dusty tears all I can cry.

Fingernails all bloodied,

ripped apart torn open.

Splinters torment skin,

shredded and broken.

Blood matted face,

scrapings of wood stuck in place.

Bones feel abused and underused,

cold against my body,

battered and bruised.

 

I hear Rustling,

this must be 

my brain playing tricks on me.

Nothing could be creeping in the darkness already.

What if they were here before?

Is this what I have in store?

On my bones these critters will gnaw.

 

Feel something crawl over skin.

How long have I been in this thing?

Is it real or imagination?

Irritated by dehydration.

Dried up insides corrode,

choking cough explodes.

Hunger pains deep inside,

lungs inflamed.

Bang... bang... bang...

On the lid.

Sound amplified.

Bang... bang... bang...

On the walls.

From the top of burning lungs,

I scream,

just dusty air and my heart playing drums.

 

I shout

but now the air is running out.

I can't keep up with this onslaught,

my body is too weak, frail and fraught.

I close my eyes,

maybe after a little sleep

I'll feel more able to rise.

 

Eternal gloom, is that my fate?

All I can do now is wait.

How long I've been here,

there is no way to know.

No moonlight or sunshine

to give us a clue.

Just darkness.

No clocks.

Darkness.

Stuck in this man-sized box.

 

 

 

Thanks for reading

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Peace, Love and Poetry 
 
Kyle

 

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