In Death

I crept along the wall

Positive the shadows would conceal me

From the eyes of a hundred

Passers-by

Who knew not what I am here to do.

My shoes provide the silence

With a click

Clack

That resonates and makes my heart thump harder.

I feel the cool paper

Against my back,

And I imagine the swirls

And dips

And paisley prints

Are reaching out

To caress my skin as I slither

Through the hallways,

Missing lights and

Missing sounds

That do not resonate my heart.

There is a room

That glows a sullen blue

At the end of the hall,

And inside I imagine

Would be cooler

Than my favorite drink.

I will find

A mirror that will not reflect the image

Of the man I have become,

But remind me of all

The things I should have been.

A chair with a black cushion

Would hold on to me,

So tight

To assure the world that I am

Just where I am needed to be.

The halls are silent,

No breezes creeping slowly,

No stifled whispers

That reach out to pull me back

To the places I used to sneak.

In there, I can find myself

Wrapped in a dull blanket,

Cocooned by walls of blue,

And I will find peace,

Concealed inside a place

Where no one knows
Who I was meant to be.

Author's Note

My thoughts around the time of "In Death" being written were (obviously) death, but more along the lines of death being a comfort, a welcome embrace, and an escape for the day-to-day interactions with self and others.

Reviews

[Gary McDonald]

This is a very original piece, rather intoxicating in many ways!!

[Jeff Loquist]

Wow, the imagery is amazing here. I went through four different scenarios of who, when, where and why this poem is...and they all worked.

[Emily Quinn]

i love this poem, its very unique and mysterious. your words make you feel for the subject based around them. This almost seems sad in a way