Hydra

It’s a slippery sinuous thing
sneaking into wormholes,
creeping into consciousness,
lurking in the background of dreams,

Like a radio.
Always playing.
One room over.

Where do the rampant questions end
and tedious rounds of remembrance
turn to forgetting?

The only menace lies in the meaning we ascribe.

Close your eyes and take a breath
as the long gray road ahead unwinds.
The heart unravels but all the world remains.

This was written for Three Word Wednesday.