Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2015
It’s dark.
No, more than that, it’s entirely stripped of light.
The hairs on my arms are rising.
The air strikes the back of my throat, freezing my esophagus, as it penetrates my lungs.
I hear a thud.
It’s slow.
Deep.
Low.
Cautiously I step.
My hesitant footsteps echo.
As I creep the thud gets slower,
Deeper.
Lower.
It surrounds my body, seeping into every crevasse, breezing through my hair, running under my fingernails, crawling onto my knuckles, climbing into my ear canal.
I continue creeping.
With every echo I am coming closer.
My breath is hushed,
reserved.
Suddenly
A single red light flips on, shinning down on a glass box.
But I cannot make out what is inside.
It holds the thud but my eyes cannot see what is ringing in my ears.
Creeping,
I reach the box.
I see It now.
Suffocating.
Barely pumping as Its blood is wrung out, dripping, covering the bottom of the box.
It is captured,
Caught in a hand with a grasp too tight.
It’s fading quickly.
I glance down at my chest,
At the jagged hole releasing my insides.
I need It back.
Panic sets in.
Enraged, my jaw clenches, and I kick the glass.
It sits still.
Seemingly cemented on its stand.
I kick and kick and kick and kick.
My hands ball into fists, held tight, arm swings back,
And I release.
I hit.
I hit and hit and kick and hit
And nothing changes.
It sits, still, encompassed in glass, with ever slowing beats.
With all my weight I push,
In hope of forcing it off the stand to shatter on the ground.
Stuck.
It will not move.
It wells up in my throat and I scream.
I scream and kick and hit and fight as tears flood down my face
I fight.
To retrieve what is gone.
Lost.
Dying.
It is in your hand.
Tight.
Dying.
Why did I give it to you?
Tears flowing, arms flying, breath heaving, I fight
and fight but I cannot break the glass to release your grasp.
I stop.
Blood rising in the box and covering It up,
Suffocating.
Drowning.
Thud… thud…. thud….. thud…… thud…… thud…….
Silence.
The light shuts off, stripped back.
Tears freeze to my flesh.
And the emptiness is all that resides.
Sophia Gaffney
Written by
Sophia Gaffney  San Diego
(San Diego)   
463
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems