Sparkatale

Isolation—
The fullest feeling
Though nothing at all,
Feels the hardest by far…
Takes space
And fills it with
Nothing.

Time ticks slow
Seconds are years
With minutes being centuries
But clocks move faster—
Lie to her,
Reassure her
That she's wrong.
And so she is.

Inhales strong
Pierces the lungs
With invisible plumes of
Burning air
Aroma of unseen perfumes
Causes pain in the chest.
Holds her breath,
But only a temporary fix.

Lays in bed
Buried in thick quilts
That refuses to keep her warm.
Stares at a ceiling
That fades into obscurity
Sees into space
Yet sees no stars.

In her eyes
A world in clouds,
Stormy grey,
Threatens rain.

In her throat
A voice imprisoned,
Chokes herself
On unsaid words.

Rolls to the side
Stares into the wall
Digs nails into skin
Searches for red…
Only finds blue.

Wanders blind,
Touches the prison walls
Navigates aimlessly.
Finds the container,
Retrieves the solution.
Away she goes.

Takes a quick drink
Washes the solution all away.
Wanders to her containment cell
And stares into the wall again.

Staring…

Her body floats,
Her head drowns.
Eyes flood oceans—
Throat quivers with sound.

And here comes the dark
To safely lead her
From her place
Laying in a disheveled room
To distant realms
Known only in imagination.

Sinking now!
Heavy body drags her under…
She doesn't fight.
There is no point.
Looks up at the surface above
Smiles in false satisfaction…
Rolls back her reddened eyes.

The knives on her fingers' ends
Release the grip on her arms
Leaves a roadmap behind
For future return.
But she needs not the directions—
The trail was memorized
Long ago.

Breathing slows
To delicate sighs.
Heartbeat drops
To rhythmic pulses.
She looks at peace—
Comfortable and calm.
And yet they'll never know.

Such is the misery
Of sedated sorrows…