Fear bleeds through me,
Starting first at my pit silently,
Then stretching its infernal fingers,
Leaving behind a worm that lingers.

Its pulsing body tickles my mind,
But my eyes slide over, blind,
For to acknowledge its residence
Would be to give my tears evidence.

The worm engorges itself on my thought
Though on vast occasions have we fought,
Patterning scars behind on my skin,
Reminding me of my indelible sin.

Thoughts turn through, round and round;
Notes my beloved muse sings are a sound.
In the shadow of the encroaching worm,
How much longer can I stand firm?

And words, my bosom love,
Hide in the shadows, watching from above,
As I try to hold longer their wondrous magic
Before all I ever loved I'll find lost and tragic.

This tumbling, turning tape worm in my veins—
As if my clockwork ticks,
But a mere ghost is holding the reins.

A/N- I don't know if anyone is still reading my poetry, yet regardless, I will continue writing.
I'd thought the pandemic had stolen my drive for writing, but I realized it was all simmering just beneath the surface, and I've been containing the words inside my head too long. Expect more pieces soon.