|picture source: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/375909900122804992/|
The doors slam shut, one by one,
in time with the second hand. Her eyes become dim,
a gray curtain drops like a heavy mist,
“breathe, breathe” a mantra in her head,
and her heart thunders down the disused highway
towards the shadows of the mountain range,
far from all she knows, from who presume to know her...
she flees toward an emptiness, comforting to her alone,
to soothe the ragged edges of her being
that are bleeding, in the here and now,
where she doesn’t belong, maybe never did...
in this silence she pulls her tattered pieces together,
gathers her wayward thinking into neat and tidy bundles,
and she reins in her wilful, rebellious nature,
before appearing to you on a cold summer’s morning,
the dew on her naked skin luminous with warmth,
when she returns to gathers you back into her fold.