Flicker

Emptiness.

On the floor in the dark room,

Paralysed.

The occasional lightbulb flicker

Brings some hope back into my blue-glazed eyes,

But it's a mere distraction.

 

I imagine that the lightbulb can see;

Awake when it's shining,

Otherwise asleep.

In the light I seem free,

My body moves. My voice, it speaks.

Speaks like the one it once belonged to,

Before the locked room lost its key.

 

The bulb will never see

The girl on the ground,

Or the shelves that collapse

Silently, as tears tie her down.

 

So why am I surprised,

That the lightbulb never stays?

Through its eyes, the room is a palace

With a princess, troubles seemingly erased.

How would it know of the dungeon

That is formed where she lays?

 

Darkness, once more.

◄ Beautiful Tree

Comments

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Astrid Thomas

Tue 18th Jun 2019 16:30

Thank you!

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Martin Elder

Tue 18th Jun 2019 09:36

what a great sense of perspective you have captured here.


I love the line

Or the shelves that collapse
Silently, as tears tie her down


wonderful stuff

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