I'm tired,
falling into another daydream,
wanting someone to grab me by the arm
and shake me back to reality
I'm choking on my own blood
walking back and forth through the dark, musty
corridors of my mind
the ceiling drips,
drips
twisting,
falling,
shaking,
the walls of the corridors breathe with
every step I take
they envelop me
and then release
gripping,
releasing,
pulling me along
every ten feet,
a dim lamp -
but the shadows are stronger
I can only see the outlines
the walls pull me along
The stale air sets heavy in my lungs
it is a thick river
flowing in
and out
I breath and I step in sync with
the corridors
my footsteps echo
my heartbeat echos
every step is heavier
sinking,
falling,
holding fast to the slimy,
moss-covered bricks
holding fast to the light of the next lantern
holding fast to the hope of an escape
The darkness weakens me
I fall
and succumb to the grip of the
serpent-like floor
the bricks become scales,
the hideous skin of the beast,
secreting an acid
that eats my skin
and burns
and dissolves me
until I cannot feel the difference
between myself and the floor
oozing,
unfolding,
I become one with the beast
and I breathe as it breathes
my heart beats as its heart beats
falling,
sinking,
moss-covered and slimy,
I become stone
I am bricks
I am corridors
the dim lights hit my surface
and I am one with the monster...
- Feb. 20, 1984, A.D.