November 14, 2016
By , Canterbury , DE

Lying still

in the shroudlike dark

That oily substance

oozes from cracks in the walls

Concocting monsters

from the mundane


Up the corridor

flocks of nurses

chatter amongst themselves

Comparing notes before

dancing away from sleep's grasp

off to the next patient

Ballerina's on an

electric-wired floor


Reality's a bit skewed here

But the thin line

between sleep and wakefulness

cuts through the murk

A harsh white



And I see

footprint shaped groves

worn into the floor

from endless pacing

The darkened outlines

of disgust, misery, self-loathing

etched into the walls

Deep scream-gorged ravines

criss-cross the ceiling above


All of these

unwanted momentos

Left behind by girls

just like


Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

Site Feedback