“There’s No Place Like Home.” by Corey Bedford

There’s no place like home.

Cold sweat
burning my forehead,
scratching down my cheek,
and eventually dripping
onto my duvet.

Panting,
almost,
like syncopated drums,
trying to find rhythm
to refill my lungs.

Eyes stay still,
room spinning,
a tornado before me,
there’s no place like home,
there’s no place I call home.
I’m pulled back
into tortured thoughts,
shame pulling out
my intestines.

All I can do is stare
at the storm approaching.
My ability to run
has fled,
leaving me to face
the oncoming fight
alone.

Thunder climbs out
of my ears,
crashes of lightning
when my head meets
the wall,
break my skull
and remove my brain,
end this torture
before it takes over.

The guilt engulfs me,
and I drown in it.
Everything becomes remote,
unobtainable.
Only constant ringing in my ear
for company.

I feel
nauseous,
empty,
even sleep does not stop it.

My breath steadies,
my sweat dries,
with a mouthful of whiskey
I lie back down.

Maybe I can’t run from the storm,
Maybe I don’t want to.