Pinch my skin
     for all things dreadful
that run, uncaged, within my mind.
     I would slap myself,
frivolously,
but for the warning written
     on the bottle of Negative Reinforcement:
May not work on all, causes
excessive irritation.  Do not get in eyes.

So here I am,
     reclined on the cusp of inevitability,

arguing bitterly with a tiny cartoon cricket
and an invisible giant rabbit.
     Growing weary.
Self-censoring,
I hide even the most
poignant of my arguments
     (wishing to shield my eyes
     from fallout I cannot control),
knowing that they would find
my thoughts just as I do --
repulsive.