Don't Make Me Travel
I hate that familiar feeling
and the world around me
trickling to a halt.
Call me a traveler,
name me your gypsy
but don't make me
travel to that place again.
Those dirt walls
aren't strong enough
to hold me,
and I can't lie down
and stare at the moon
as the worms
eat my brain
and my body dances
to the macabre tune
of eternal night.
I can't let those
long-dead ghosts
possess me
and turn my lips
and my teeth
into automatic cannibals.
Call me your traveler
name me your gypsy
but don't make me
travel to that place again.