in the dark of the afternoon .......... 9March04

Folder: 
2004

many a time

i sit and i stare

the reds of my eyelids

as closed

the lights,

what? 100 watts or so

heat i feel

the whirring, the high pitched-ness

the dimmer straining the light

piercing my innerness

innerness... that's all

who knows exactly what



and then theres the quiet

it's not much better

then prone to hear what isn't there

i hear the night

the sounds

the objects

they walk

make floorboards creek

the sound of stairs is unmistakable

quiver as i type

alone



clutching, moving back

the eight year old again

the child

with her night light

it cast shadows

and nightmares

must i go full circle?

the nothingness calls

the past the future

the ever worse present



what is there...

how

it has to stop

i'll go mad

mad mad mad mad mad mad mad mad mad!

i'll die here

alone

in the dark of the afternoon

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Chris No's picture

This poem started off good. But I don't like the "mad mad mad mad mad" part, it seems very forced.

Beth's picture

This is so cool, i dont know what to say i just love it. i like the "ill go mad mad mad mad mad" part lol I've been in a dark house alone before and I know what that feels like.