Her Blanket

March 24, 2011
By HayDan SILVER, Westwood, California
HayDan SILVER, Westwood, California
5 articles 0 photos 0 comments

hell traps me
burns my forehead
fills my limbs with led
spending me
like a lowly gambler would chips

eyes closed, I let the darkness
spill in, weaving its way through
my head, until I have to lie down
sinking into a blanket, soft and green,
the one that reminds me of her

my sister, just a baby, waits for me
sleeping quietly across the hall
everyone has shown her my picture
it’s sitting on the changing table
she looks up at it sometimes
tilting her head, confused

I’ve built a cave
from loose sheets and pillows
I hide out in there during the day
her soft, green blanket
the one she was first wrapped in
fortifies the south wall
I lean on it, counting down the days

one more week, maybe two
before energy, soft and green,
will flow through me again
driving out the darkness
and opening my sunken eyes
giving me the strength
to smash my cave,
wash her blanket, soft and green
and wrap her in it myself

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