Refusal/Denial

My brain batters at the walls of my skull like the silvered moths beating themselves to death against the window pane, confusing my flickering candles for the spiraling stars. It wants out it wants out it wants out I want out. All the colors on the walls have begun to laugh at me as they melt and meld and drip down to the baseboards, pooling around my shaking ankles as I stand unmoving, squeezing my eyes tight against the tiny insect legs scratching at my bones, the wings thudding against the lenses. Open your eyes, open your eyes, lift your head and stare the world in the face before they make a cocoon of your head. Your mind is already being spun to silk. Force them out your pupils until the room is filled with the frantic vibrations of a million feathered wings. Never speak a word, they'll only steal them away from your cracking lips, just cry until their agitation tears the walls to splinters and the colors run to dust. Cling tight to the taciturn trees, hide your shivers in their branches until the wind dies.