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August 17, 2007
Blood pumps too hard,
Pounding my temples,
as before childhood nightmares.
I'm no longer a child.
I want to beard the lion
is his mane not enough?
exorcise my demons,
share life's blood.

Mind-movies won't let me,
"Relax."
Instead
echoing cries of panic
unwarranted, inconsolable;
the feeling of sinking into black;
icy cold hallways
white freezing white
leading to past nightmares,
the real, lived kind
that make your soul bleed.
Blood-red again
and the phantasmic spiraling chase scene
of those haunted, young sleeps.

I want to give blood.
But red leads to black, to white,
Red Black White
Failure. Again.