Sucked In

Feet make a constant mournful tread.

Rhythm barely breaking through our frozen minds,

like a steel edged hatchet with a splintered handle,

cracking down on the ice, shards and snowflakes flying.

Footsteps echo in the bitter, empty air,

filling up the cavernous space like the first splash of water,

from a dark and moody sky.

But the sounds are also muffled, smothered, like a cat curled under downy                 

        blankets

hiding within a house covered in snow, lying meekly beneath a sky stuffed   

        with gray, on a winter's morning.

 

 

Our footsteps lead on, giving us no choice but to move forward, and we        

        continue.

 

 

I inhale the air, so necessary in this lifeless environment,

but lungs sucking in the precious oxygen only burns -- my scalding morning     

        coffee, spicy, at

5:00am in bleak November.

The sky is a blue, so pale, but so bright, the color of cold, hard

        diamonds gleaming, radiating, blazing.

Frigid knives freeze the insides of my nose,

the only breath coming to me now is the emptiness, loneliness, of endless 

        mountains.

The snow fills my mouth, no longer melting, just settling,

        for a long stay.

It tastes every bit like hell freezing over.

The cold clutches at my throat.

 

 

An army’s march, we troop up to the ultimate goal,

literally the top of the world.

Some call it heaven, some call it hell: Mt. Everest.

 

 

I see the jagged contours, white adorned slopes far above, majestic,

        impossible,

unattainable as my warm home

miles, worlds, and lifetimes away. 

Pain, durable as steel, resides deep-set in my body;

though my hands and feet and face no longer comprehend the    

        temperature,

the senses have long been dead.

Minutes become hours, and hours, minutes;

days, years, and century's fly by in this dragging moment.

Everything, a dream.

 

 

Gravitational pull becomes a nagging aunt,

         croaking commands,

she the one that, though only middle aged, has lost youth’s beauty

and joyful knowledge.

Now the weight of it tugs and clings,

         relentlessly dragging,

as a child on their mother’s arm, on the way to the doctor.

The snow and sun and ice, everything becomes a

         shimmering haze,

reminding me of a time, in late summer last year, afternoon,

just before the setting of the sun, sky ablaze I squint my eyes

until all I see are rays of lights drifting through the thick wave of my eyelashes.

 

 

My mind drifts in another world, like a schoolboy gazing out the frosted   

        window,

class forgotten, he dreams of warm creeks oozing mud, and a creaky oak

        swing; spring’s healing touch.                                              

A gale blows, reverie broken, and icy fingers drag across my skin instead,

harsh wind returns reality with a   

        vengeance.

An immense block of ice and snow crumples from a ledge �" thrashing, crashing, tumbling �" far off, but the sounds reverberating

through my organs and my skull --- I jolt at the noise and�"

 

 

CRACK

 

 

A sharp but resonating hum filters throughout my strangely silent bedroom,

        my body shudders.

Heart pounding, eye wide, disorientated as an alien as it firsts steps

        upon luscious earth;

I lie hanging off the short length of my bed.

 

 

And look down to what has fallen, spread open on the floor, pages flying;

         my book.

Reviews

[Amanda]

Your detail is amazing and I love your similes!