Fever

FEVER

 

There is something in the corner of my room.      

                                                                                                                                                                               I squint to see it in the darkness.

A little boy is sitting on the floor,

Playing with a deck of cards.

I sit up and stare at him.

He sees me and runs right into the wall.

 

On my blinds, little people are having a tea party.

They strut up and down with cups and saucers.

I swear I hear them singing.

 

The wallpaper on the ceiling starts to fall.

Burying me in a papery grave.

I call for my mother.

 

She comes to check on me,

In a stripy nightgown, she’s had for years.

She cradles me as I cry,

Whilst each stripe peels off onto my rug.

 

When she leaves,

My dead grandmother walks my room.

‘Am I skinny? Am I skinny?’

She begs me to answer her,

As she stares right through me.

 

I feel every organ inside my body.

I am hyperaware.

Something is crawling on my face.

Clawing at my arms.

 

On my knees,

I ask God

When will this end?

 

Drugsfeverhallucinationssickness

◄ The Fawns

A Broken Mirror ►

Comments

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Paul Sayer

Thu 9th Jul 2020 15:06

Sadness overwhelms me as I read this Izzy.

The drug-infused confused and delusion states of mind. creates within us...

'From experience' ... An inability to actualise knowledge, perception and intuition.

In laymen's terms, the inability to discern reality from the drug-fuelled frenzy and hallucinations that always lead us away from the truth.

Especially and more potently when we are actually 'seeking' ethereal and esoteric realities and worlds.

Po

A superb piece of poetry!

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Hugh

Thu 9th Jul 2020 10:52

Spooky and imaginative.Well done

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Anmolpreet Kaur

Thu 9th Jul 2020 07:26

Great choice of words and expression.
I loved it.

Ak

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Emeka Collins

Wed 8th Jul 2020 21:15

Wow, wow, wow, wow.
You're good dear poet.

I can barely see a cliche in your work. It is just out of the heavens to earth.

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