backed
into a corner
the coppery taste
of blood
runs along his tongue
his pupils
pinpricks
his pulse
raging
in his skull
his hands
shake
as the incongruency
of the universe
bears down
leaving him
with no choice
so
he hunched down
into a ball
ignored
every instinct
that had only ever
led him
into situations
much the same
as this one
hoping
against hope
somehow
this would turn out
differently.
Mike's Manic Word Depot 
That was a challenge, trying to comment took me to a dark place!
I relate to this, I suspect though, differently to you.
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Indeed. We all feel it. And it is a dark place. Well played on the differently.
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You found one of my favorite poets! 🥰
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Down to you my friend and River Dixon – Mike and I have both published through River’s Potter’s Grove Press.
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Makes us family. River is the uncle that always had hard candies in his pocket.
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