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.