Composition Corrosive

by Sam M. Phillips

I feel sick,

I did not pick

To be this way,

But I cannot stay

Here for fear

Of going mad,

I’m so sad

And explosive,

My composition corrosive,

Erosive forces,

Courses I carve

Trying to starve

My illness of power,

See me cower

Under the table,

Unable to come out

Without having to shout.

Doubt what’s right,

I’m out of sight,

Bite the hand that feeds,

Succeeds in destruction,

I gain satisfaction,

I want it all to end,

So I send

Myself insane,

Pump poison into brain,

Strain myself to death,

Strangle my breath,

I’m lost and starving,

Raving and unstable,

Able to know

I can’t handle the blow

Of going on my own,

The nest is flown

And then I’m blown

Back again.

***

Four years in the making…

Jammed packed with fun ideas, complex characters, and snappy sci fi stories…

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INFINITY AND I: Seventy Science Fiction Short Stories

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