Titans

I rise from darkness, the night like ink

pooling in the creases of my clothes,

tendrils sliding, weaving, curling in my hair,

running over my skin like fingers.

I blink: heavy lids, blurry eyes, dark skies,

blank skies – unbroken dark and starless high.

I am in blackness and dusty dirt tonight.

And every time I breathe, all I taste is dirt –

No air here and I’m choking, choking, coating

my tongue, filling up my lungs with heavy dark.

I cough out a sound, an explosion in the silence

that detonates with little fuss, and slips away,

into the midnight ether, unnoticed.

It is clear: there is no one to hear, no one here

except my own stupid fear.

The night gapes wide, looms over, across the sky.

When it swallows me whole, I know, I know:

I’m alone.