Broken AC

Orange florescent light streams

Through my window casting

Shadowy bars on my bed.

The heat becomes a prison guard,

Burning my body with fiery

Blows, he rains down all over me.

A pool of sweat surrounds me,

Splashing up against my body

Like saltwater on a beach

Washing grains of salt on skin

Mixing with the burns left by the guard.

Yellow-white headlights from passing cars

Start illuminating the wall,

Revealing an ugly eggshell white,

Hole-filled, poster plastered,

Creature staring at me while I

Make attempts to fall asleep.

Finally, relief comes to break me

Out of this shadowy prison.

A breeze crashes through the blinds.

Subtlety is not his strong suit.

He runs by my cell and reaches

For my hand.

Reviews

[Peter Joseph Swanson]

Nice!