hidden.shine

Anxious Reflection (a sonnet)

The floor boards let out a whining threat,
as I count the seconds and my breathing.
I\'m no longer stable; I begin to sweat.
This tension I endure, is unceasing.
I reach for the answer, but I go into shock.
This floor is crumbling
and my bones begin to lock.
This wallpaper is mumbling
and down my body goes.
I\'m curled into a question mark, waiting for this house to foreclose.
-m.