medicated

 

in a corner of the room

daylight pools its last ripples

and she stands alone

afraid to step onto the shadow

that creeps towards her

afraid of the sly shuffle sound

that drags itself across the floor

or the mewling voice

that whispers its fears

and fantasies

so that when she blinks

the orange light

has dimmed

and the room shimmers

in a twilight fret

of forgotten memories

that rip and tear

at her naked heart

that laugh at her attempts

to blind deafen and mute

the world of man

a snigger bursts from the walls

and cascades

like falling insects

across her head

and shoulders

searing pain

touching all the places

that she loathes

replacing body warmth

with a cold, grey shroud

of hopelessness

and she knows

that tomorrow

is another day

to face the world

and stumble through

the drudgery

in a chemical haze

that numbs

the soul

 

when she looks again

the shadow is receding

like an ebbing tide

and she takes a step

away from the corner

towards the infant day