The Chest
by Sam M. Phillips

I could write forever,
Never sever this tether,
I’m better with letters,
With them my fetters
Fall away
And I play
In my own rich world.

Swirled up in my emotions,
Motions of real creatures,
The light in the centre features,
All others are shadows,
Dancing against the bright background,
Look what I’ve found,
A treasure chest,
I do my best to unlock,
But I block myself,
Cannot help myself.

Self-sabotage,
Guilty on some charge,
It looms large
Despite its amorphous nature,
I should be more mature,
I should have made sure,
No regrets haunt my sleep,
But we can’t keep
Ourselves that clean
In this daydream
World we find ourselves in.

I can’t think above the din,
That’s why I go within,
Take a swim
In the water
That later
I’ll drink,
Then sink
Into the great mass,
Wet clay clinging,
Ears ringing,
Soul singing praise,
Seek to raise
My spirits.

See my merits
Locked in the chest,
It has come to rest
On the ocean floor,
My lungs raw,
I act,
Make a pact,
I want to see,
What’s bothering me.

I do not attack the lock,
Place no stock
In such material answers,
My mind blurs
And I’m within the chest,
Inside is a mess,
A tangle of stress,
With much less
Space than normal.

Something detrimental,
Has happened here,
I fear a collapse,
Each relapse
Brings me closer to death,
And I’m sort of breath,
My chest is hurting,
Subconscious blurting
Out the score:
This is a smoking metaphor.

***

My debut short novel has been released as a double feature.

SCIENCE FICTION DOUBLE FEATURE: Phosphorus & Into The Eye

Get your copy today in paperback and ebook.

Available from Amazon here: Science Fiction Double Feature: Phosphorus and Into the Eye