deja vu

sitting here
between a rock and a
hard place offering no reprieve
from the dull pain that
squeezes and never
lets me
go
to sleep and never waken
could that be the cure
to this dread that
falls like winter
snow
like a thick blanket of
suffocating whiteness
bleaching all colour away and
leaving only this lone figure
naked and shivering
knowing that it will not end here
but like the crashing of the waves on crumbling rock
will happen again
and again
and again
until all that is left
are silent, faceless crystals of sand.