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My eyes now filled with light—

fluorescent and bright

a comfort too dearest to mention

like steam off of a lake, my edges,

blurred.

A green forest, thick and aphotic

rents space in my mind.

I’ve been ridden with disaster—

for the sake of my life, unlived

scratching fingers on window panes,

my life, unlived

walking down allies-

drifting through valleys,

this comfort becomes a burden.

Turning my insides out, now

bloody, dirty,

skin

my organs exposed

only to trap that fake, florescent

—light.




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