Implosion

Tomorrow will come!
Tomorrow will come?

Struck by pain,
In an enlarged present,
I repeat these words –

Tomorrow will come!
Tomorrow will come?
I hang between an exclamation. 
And a question mark, 

Stretched as a thick dream over reality, 
Long, ivory tendons pushing through the skin,
White knuckles shining like pearly serpents,
Blunt nails buried in the tender flesh
Of sweaty, slippery palms, 

The heart, drumming in my ears,
As eyelids fold so hard
Sealing me inside an unhabitable body,
Imploding into the reddest darkness
that I have ever been into.
Tomorrow will come!
Tomorrow will come?