Self-Loathing

Bruxism


that's what they called it

grinding her teeth

at night while she slept

only one of the nasty habits

she'd picked up

the main reason

she still needed

to unlock those damned doors



Her subconscious

still directing

the plot

tangled

inside a sixties B movie



protecting her

by hiding

the truth

redirecting

her thoughts

leading her

towards the light

but the dark

still beckoned

leaving a slick stain

beneath the sheets

of her memory

like unwashed skin

exuding its distinct odor

she had to find the key

she had to let go of the ring.