A Foreign Force

A blanket-

No.

An absence-

No.

Reverence-

Still not right.

Peace?

Certainly not.

A weight-

No.

Yes?

Yes:

A weight,

a shape,

a hand,

is pressing down

Twisting my throat,

Covering my lips,

Keeping all air out

My lungs bloat,

My tongue trips,

And I know without a doubt-

It is back.

That invisible thing,

That creeps and crawls and springs

Into everything around it

And forces us to submit.

Isolating.

Unwelcome.

Intruder.

And once it comes

(And it always comes

sometime,

eventually,

inevitably)

It controls us

Though we never discuss

Our ways

For holding it at bay

Just in case it may stray

And upon us set its gaze

We try to stave it off

With a cough and a scoff

And it works-

But just for a while

A much-too-short while

Before it again descends

And rends

Our ability to speak

From us limb to limb, wing to beak

I hope you never fall prey

As I was lead astray-

It is never good to be alone

When control of your voice is not your own.