Friday, December 17, 2010

fear



Sometimes my heart is dark as night.  I step out of my body, watching the girl on the bed, pillow over her head, shaking like a bag of bones.
This fear recreates me.
I step outside, feet barely touching the clouds of snow that hang around like thugs on a streetcorner. I am warm but know that I shouldn't be.
This fear recreates me.
I look inside windows and see people staring at televisons. I watch a woman lean over her kitchen sink with her hands full of bubbles, weeping.
This fear recreates me
As I smooth my static, ghostly hair from my face a child plays silently with toys that talk back but don't say the words he wants them to.  He is weeping.
This fear recreates me
And curtains close, and lights shut off and I am born again.

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