IT'S UPON ME NOW

By Maddox D. Nash

I feel blood-wet burns on my wrists, thick

metal shackles my neck, behind the gag,

copper-vomit sick, jaws stiff, stench of

death and danger, thick invade my tear-

traced nostrils, and waft over my bare

breasts. 

Cement-heavy eyelids lift, unfocused- 

Darkness,  except yellow eyes glowing,

growing closer. 

Does God still exist? 

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