Skull Box

An explosive little time bomb has settled at the nape of my neck

      With grip that forces 

      The sudden contortion of bone and muscle

Beginning the quivering countdown to the unrelenting, and unyielding fog

       Yanking me away from the present

       Day after Day

              For a short period of time I am

              Forced to fight a losing battle, In my own cranial trap

Losing time

              My senses and abilites

              Slurring and Stuttering

              Crushing eyelids together as barricades to the blur

Holes in my memory

             Mixing reality with fabrication

             To ask would only bring  added self-concious distress

And these stupid chalk yellow tablet

        Only bring a shaky discomfort 

        That seems to chuckle with every jump

Mocking my attempt to self medicate, and intensifying the panic

Before the uncontrollable brain drain commandeers

 

My once treasured and most protected ability,

To simply Think inside this Skull Box

Has left me..

Confined.