A pulsating longevity awaits in the longing hours.
Tick.
Tick.
A sulphurous coverlet crawls up to my neck.
Tick.
Tick.
It’s dark at the windows; it claws at my throat.
Tick.
Tick.
Someone, come save me – I can’t breathe; I can’t cope.

The layers peel back, constellations on show –
I sit with this pain while it grabs its dark coat
On closer perusal, a face lingers close
Broken, ugly, no joy does it show

It takes my limp hand in a gentle caress – calloused, hardened, its gaze set on my chest

“Dear girl”, it does say, as the tears linger close, “your being in this world hasn’t quite found its home”
I grasp at this hand I don’t quite understand – it coaxes me forward in a promising demand.

“Make friends with this darkness – feel how it chokes. It has a message to share underneath its black cloak”

Trepid, shaken, I follow its lead
The cracks shatter open and all is revealed.