Alone in a crowded Harvard Square he once again is made flesh,
The fractures of my mind allowing this assault,
Frozen, trembling, submissive I stare into oblivion,
I choke, swallowing, sweating, gasping for breath,
Humanity rushes past me, around me, and over me in a mob,
No longer I stand in the present, but awoken into my nightmare,
Washed away twenty-three years past eroding my reality,
Grasping at the shreds of my sanity, it slips through my fingers,
The edge of the knife relentless, my focus, my reality,
“Throw yourself into it,” the voice screams in my mind,
The world before me melts, swirls and rises back up to greet me.

Time lapses, I rush into the oncoming traffic,
Clamoring for certainty I dive into the coffee bar,
Frantic my eyes dart back from the door to my hands,
Unable to breathe freely, all eyes burrow into me,
These unnamed souls know my every weakness, every secret,
Surrounded by strangers, overwhelmed by my passions,
The moments blur into minutes crawling ever forward,
My body violently tremors mixing with time and space,
I want to scream for it all to stop, for it all to end permanently,
Awash in the confusion of my eternal nightmares made flesh,
“Stop!” I sink into the unending cycles of my paranoia and psychosis.

~ Mark Bere Peterson (2013)

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