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.