The Hot and the Wet

The hot and the wet
Grips you as you spasm
In the corner of a
Cold dark room

It has been like this
Ever since you can recall
You pray for the convulsion
To cease its cruel grasp

When you get this way
You search for an action
That will diminish the
Energy the spasm drains

Something that will deflect
The continuous strife
You cry out for someone
Anyone to heed your calls

No one responds
You are alone in the dark
The spasm strengthens
Its grip and you start
A stifled mewling
That doesn’t even draw
The interest of the rats

— GB