May 28, 26 - thundergodblog

The Blaspheme of My Dignity

I woke at three when the darkness called my name
The floor beneath me hummed with something wrong
A buzzing low, like current through a frame
My body sang a strange and nameless song
The sparks began to crawl below the knee
Like insects feeding on a wound unseen
I did not know the truth of what would be
I only felt the horror grow between
The dream arrived and wore a surgeon’s coat
It handed me a diagnosis carved in stone
The rot had crept as far as any throat
And left me standing somewhere half alone
I looked down at my feet through sleepless eyes
They were not feet but something split apart
The flesh had opened up in slow surprise
Like something that had lost its will to start
The wound was breathing, slick and purple-grey
A hissing mouth that spoke without a word
It told me I was rotting from the day
The kind of thing that waking life deferred
I tried to run but something held the floor
The tingling spread its gospel up my spine
I could not find the exit or the door
I only knew the numbness was not mine
The corridors were made of failing skin
The walls were leaking something pale and thick
A pus of what I had been holding in
A yellow truth that made the dreaming sick
The doctors in the hallway looked away
As if the wound were something indiscreet
They said the body always finds a way
To tell you what the mind refuses to meet
I screamed but what came out was just the hum
That electrical low whisper in the dark
The terror was not sharp but strangely numb
The dying was so quiet in the heart
I watched my hands dissolve into the floor
I watched my legs become a stranger’s weight
I stood inside the wound I could not ignore
And still I could not name the thing, too late
The dream dissolved to three AM again
The tingling called me back from where I’d gone
The body had been speaking through the pain
A language only sleepers live upon
Now waking draws the curtain back at last
The nerve damage was the ghost inside the room
The dreaming mind could not outrun the past
It only built more elegant the tomb
The feet were never rotting in the night
The wound was never leaking on the floor
The body spoke in signals, not in fright