Journey

“Drive safe”
The last thing I remember.
I'm home now.

Lights off,
Lock the car and wonder how
I got here.

Hallway
My own home but still a fear
Of Darkness.

The light
Flickers on and my distress
Falls asleep.

I'm squinting;
My unwilling eyes must weep
Themselves clean.

Knuckles
Unzip and dry the damp screens.
Sight restored.

Thirsty,
No clean glasses on the board
Or nearby.

Still parched,
I drink from the tap and dry
My wet lips.

Fatigue
Hits me like a tidal wave.
I stagger.

Darkness,
But I ignore the dagger
In my back.

Weary,
Stumbling up the well-known black
Spiral stairs.

Clumsy
A slight stubbed toe and pain flares
And then drowns.

Bypass
The bathroom and mother's frowns
Make me blush.

About turn,
Washbag, toothpaste, and toothbrush.
Scrub, spit, rinse.

My room.
I ignore the faded prints
On the walls.

Heaven.
Slip in before my skin cools.
Pass away.

Views:

by Matt