i woke up at three a.m.
my eyes wide
breathing hard and
shaking.
a sharp intake of breath
works to calm my nerves
while my fingers ache
and my hands tremble unfeeling.
i arouse my legs to wakefulness—
slide them from the warm comfort of my bed
to the piercing chill of the hard wooden floor.
coat on, feet slipped into boots;
i go for a walk
hoping that a trip ‘round the block will
calm the sudden gaping fissure inside of me.
after the door swings shut behind me,
i turn to face the unyielding darkness.
with my breath condensing into a moist cloud in front
i confront the empty street.
her tenebrous maw
snaps at my unprotected ankles;
her chill wind
cracks my lips, leaving them ******
i feel her reaching deep inside of me
grasping at where there is nothing.
when i see the ice accumulating on the neighbors’ lawns,
i realize that an under-dressed walk through the murky night
might not have been the best idea.
only then do i question why i’m here.
what i’m doing, wandering the dark corridors of our quiet suburb,
sheltered from reality.
it’s disconcerting to be lost, isn’t it?
Nov 28, 2011
Nov 28, 2011 at 12:56 AM UTC
i woke up at three a.m.
my eyes wide
breathing hard and
shaking.
a sharp intake of breath
works to calm my nerves
while my fingers ache
and my hands tremble unfeeling.
i arouse my legs to wakefulness—
slide them from the warm comfort of my bed
to the piercing chill of the hard wooden floor.
coat on, feet slipped into boots;
i go for a walk
hoping that a trip ‘round the block will
calm the sudden gaping fissure inside of me.
after the door swings shut behind me,
i turn to face the unyielding darkness.
with my breath condensing into a moist cloud in front
i confront the empty street.
her tenebrous maw
snaps at my unprotected ankles;
her chill wind
cracks my lips, leaving them ******
i feel her reaching deep inside of me
grasping at where there is nothing.
when i see the ice accumulating on the neighbors’ lawns,
i realize that an under-dressed walk through the murky night
might not have been the best idea.
only then do i question why i’m here.
what i’m doing, wandering the dark corridors of our quiet suburb,
sheltered from reality.
it’s disconcerting to be lost, isn’t it?
This is a draft of a piece I've been working on. I've been playing particularly with punctuation and capitalization; I'm trying to experiment with the kind of mood it lends to the piece. The working title is just that, a working title, and I'd really like some criticism of it. Thanks, ladies and gents.
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