Lying waiting again
3 June, 2009
The world is through a paper film,
a shadow flashed across a wall.
No words, no faces, just a scream
and a thousand eyes staring.
A hot room and a soaking bed,
curtains that won't sit straight
and air that itches my skin:
this the stairway into the accident of me.
It seems you cannot be part of it,
yet your face is in the web of everything,
projected into eyes of the endless spiders
that crawl across the room.
You are moving through the motion of it all,
caught in the shadows and the eyes and the searching
lights.
You pick out the holes in the walls and floors.
I don't want to fall down again.
I try to lie still
but I cannot stop the shake in my legs or the jerk in my
eyes.
If I call out, will anyone hear me?
My hands are too cold and wet to hold anyway.
Could I stay here forever, waiting in a darkened room?
I am so thin now, wasting away.
I think you might have forgotten me, dear.
No matter, I'll climb the broken stairway once more.