lights everywhere...
flicker.
up and down my street;
all across the world.
the bathroom light flickers as the delicate body that once was mine is burned.
burned by the disgustingness that uprises from my throat.
burned by the water from the too long showers i take
no matter how hard i try to throw up and flush the pain,
or how hard i try to scrub it off my skin with scorching hot water,
it never leaves.
the suffering never ends.
my kitchen light flickers.
as i eat my feelings.
or as i attempt to starve myself.
the fridge light flickers while i stare out at my backyard as if i was trapped in my house, and couldn’t go outside no mater how hard i tried.
the hall light flickers.
as i walk from room to room.
i relate to you, hallway.
you feel like you’re always being used,
for closets,
and to get from place to place.
no one cares much about you,
yet if you weren’t there they’d need you, want you back.
only then do they care.
the downstairs light doesn’t flicker.
only if i’m down there.
she thinks “what have i done wrong?”
oh mother. if only you knew what ran through my head.
the downstairs light doesn’t need to flicker,
it has long been off.
my bedroom light flickers.
when i frown. or laugh. or cry. or smile.
when i’m feeling down and when i’m high.
it flickers while i sit on my floor, head up against my dresser, hands running through my hair and across my eyes, wiping away tears.
i feel nothing except everything.
do the lights ever just simply turn on?
or will they just dim more and more until they give up?
oh, how those lights love to flicker
