A Cold Morning After Amphetamines.

On this morning. I am here,
Slightly less substantial than yesterday.
A little paper thin.
I can taste my fetid breath
Collecting as mildew on my teeth.
My stomach gnaws, unfed.
I try desperately to warm my feet.

It’s too early to rise,
and I’m too hungry to eat.
But I won’t close my eyes,
I’m too terrified to sleep.

So here I am,
Caught between yesterday and tomorrow,
Living in memory and a dream
Unable to sleep, frozen in time
A poised china figurine.
Inside a her own crystal globe.

There are no islands undisturbed
No gilded kingdoms behind glass,
No walls that chaos cannot breach
So unceremoniously upturned,
A flurry of agitated thoughts sent adrift,
Algae swept up in a perfect storm.
Briefly alive. Maddeningly close. Impossibly swift.

Finally, they settle into a graceful silence
As dust motes will do in a quiet afternoon parlour.
Where, as a child I once passed an intimate hour,
By my sweetest Grandmother’s side,
Gently caressing her translucent skin.
And knowing for the first time life’s true vigour,
That mine would eventually be the same.

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