The hermit

Agoraphobic

Window exposed

A sign I'm still here

Light streams are neglected

Aphotic depths, I suppress there

Brief encounter with a scornful wind 

startled by it's rogue circulation

Intestines gripped by phantom ligatures 

Mental backtracking failed to unpick

Sunless, restrictive, over grown fetus

I keep submerged, stagnant and enveloped

A knowing there is nothing beyond this stretch

Movement is careful, cradled my own bones

Writhed and convulsed in an auditory holocaust

confined to the mind, aloof and alight

Barely heard, labored breath in the quietus

Hunched up on precipice of nothingness

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

wow what an astute description of this disease....we are like a child who refuses to leave the womb...a scary world out there...and the slightest light, wind, anything that comes from without makes us go farther within....

so well versed is this poem.

[Valkyrie Warrior]

That made me shudder. A real and yet flowing poem, very good!