5 seconds, before falling

… I crawled towards the door, ripped out of the frame. An abandoned factory with casted shadows of yesterday’s mares. I crawl towards the pillar in the middle where a single lamp hangs on a long piece of string. The light bulb flickers like an old neon sign at the motels.

 

Flick, flick, flick, above my head. Seismic seizures and flashing lights. Like a bad trip, the effects of reality are multiplied. They hit me like paparazzi, but it’s just the light bulb, lightly unscrewed from the lamp. The tungsten wire, heating up and cooling down at a rate of 3 times per second. There is no real pattern, sometimes it stays out and sometimes it just stays on. But it flickers most of the time. The light bulb is my idea, it’s there but I can’t grab a hold of it. I just sit against my pillar, with my head in my hands, shaking, trembling. An escapee from the mental asylum round the bend of my mind. Schizophrenic distortion, personal retortion, my own extortion. Flick, flick, flick, above my head.

 

Flash, bash, smash, eyelids blackened from the light punches, hitting me without a pattern at the speed of light. I am not down yet, the knockout is yet to come. In the ring, my chances are slim. The audience stays silent. They can’t bare the humiliation I am undergoing. My soul is being squeezed and my brain decanted. Translation, humiliation, unstoppable limitation. Smash, bash, flash.

 

There I am, swung out of the gutter, punched against the side. Bleeding soul, tormented and my lips sewn shut. I am left behind, by the angels and demons that caused the scars and wounds. I no longer have control. I sit there against the pillar, my eyes taking punches from the flickering light. Flick, flick, fli..

 

Woman, what are you looking for. Just take yourself out and leave me be, taking punches from the light bulb hanging over me. She holds out her hand, but I won’t look. She touches my cheek and rubs over a cut. The pain has abandoned me. She turns around and faces the light. Lifts her hand up towards the bulb and screws it in, nice and tight. A steady light, casted over her figure. She stands in her full glory, savior of the day, savior of tomorrow. With the bulb screwed in tightly, she lifts me up and sets me on my feet. I suddenly feel lightly and I can finally go to sleep …

Reviews

[sonnetmoon]

A really short piece of writing with a dramatic effect. Well done once again.

-sonnetmoon

[plainme]

Thanks a lot!

[popourii]

I like your title, it pulls the reader in and captures the whole scene you described.
It's amazing how much you can draw from a short span in a moment of time.
Well done.

[plainme]

My favourite part of writing poetry is naming my pieces, it can change the entire view or give you the heads up of what is going to come, I don't know how I get them, I just feel it in the titles. Thank you for reading and for your review!

[popourii]

Of course, anytime! :)

[Johnny Blade]

I love it! I see so much within it that relates to myself.

[plainme]

I thought that we had something in common when I read your poem. Thank you.