Irrational fear: I am scared of mice. A few times growing up, they got into my bedroom, tore up tissues, and nested in my stuffed animals. If I hear one in my house, scattering in the attic, scraping in the wall, if I catch a glimpse of one in a field, my blood freezes. I do not know why their ability to shatter my peace of mind has such a hold on me.
There’s a character named Brown Jenkin in the H.P. Lovecraft story ‘The Dreams in the Witch House.” He is a familiar that has the body of a rat and a man’s face. Sometimes I have states where I am awake but unable to move. Where I know that I am probably dreaming the interdimensional-rat-human-hybrid is behind me, but cannot fully snap out of it.
interdimensional rodent
i respawn in a room i know
covered in bruised angles
he is there
trapped in the wall behind the bed
caught among jagged bits
of opioid-dazed fantasy
i cannot fight or move or scream
submerged in paralysis
he is here
freed from the drywall labyrinth
feel near, his steady breath
a vile, scraping form among us
i respawn in a room i know
of dazed, cold reality
he’s not here
i alight from my carousel
of uncertain nightmares
i hope that rat never finds me
