Sleeping Beauty - a poem
Created | Updated Dec 5, 2005
She sits on her bed
In the dark, cold room
Picks up the book that lays beside her
And places it
Oh so slowly
Onto the floor.
Measured movements
Each muscle monitored
So that she is sure
She is still in control.
She feels the way now
She has felt before
Head spinning
And unsure of what exactly is going on in there.
With two eyes open
She can see
Colours swirling
Shapes and patterns
Shifting lights
In the everyday surroundings.
They make her dizzy.
Shakes her head to clear it.
With eyes closed
She feels the gentle caress
Of eyelash against naked cheek
Inhales the scent of second-hand air
Through the bundle of cloth
She clutches to her chest
Rough fabric against parched lips.
She is thirsty
But not even the purest liquid could quench her desire.
Sharpened through time
Until it throttles her
Breath catches in her desert throat
A death rattle
And a moan.
She sighs with a sound like a thousand sorrows.
Falls backwards
Caught unwillingly by the unwelcoming mattress
Blows her kisses to the ceiling
And clutches her remembrance to her heart.
She lies there
Half dead
Half sleeping
In suspended animation.
Waits for the time
When she will be whole again.
In the dark, cold room
Picks up the book that lays beside her
And places it
Oh so slowly
Onto the floor.
Measured movements
Each muscle monitored
So that she is sure
She is still in control.
She feels the way now
She has felt before
Head spinning
And unsure of what exactly is going on in there.
With two eyes open
She can see
Colours swirling
Shapes and patterns
Shifting lights
In the everyday surroundings.
They make her dizzy.
Shakes her head to clear it.
With eyes closed
She feels the gentle caress
Of eyelash against naked cheek
Inhales the scent of second-hand air
Through the bundle of cloth
She clutches to her chest
Rough fabric against parched lips.
She is thirsty
But not even the purest liquid could quench her desire.
Sharpened through time
Until it throttles her
Breath catches in her desert throat
A death rattle
And a moan.
She sighs with a sound like a thousand sorrows.
Falls backwards
Caught unwillingly by the unwelcoming mattress
Blows her kisses to the ceiling
And clutches her remembrance to her heart.
She lies there
Half dead
Half sleeping
In suspended animation.
Waits for the time
When she will be whole again.
