Halfway Home Poem by Anthony Fortunato

Halfway home I stop by the dark part of the street
looking down where gravel meets dirt
I wonder why I'm going home
I don't want to
but adolescence
leaves little choice
So I keep walking
the closer I get
The sick feeling
in my gut gets worse
At this age it's a cold breathe
coming from something
alive and growing somewhere
not so far away

The feeling never leaves
It gets buried
Reappearing years later
after a meltdown
Like a sick magic trick
Instead of a bunny a demon
with a million teeth and no brain
gets pulled from an oversized hat
It's comes out with pieces of your ulcerated gut
hanging from its thick purple jowls
Eyes shining black he smiles like an idiot at you
Waiting for you to feed him some more yum yums.