Delta40
03-01-2011, 05:54 PM
I am awake but I'm not
Gathered in my room
of quarantined love,
the dead skirt the perimeter,
whispering in groups
behind lace curtains.
You especially shape my outlook
when I arrive at this
cemetery of sleep.
There is a young child
flitting about anxiously
as if she is trapped.
She is the ghost who escaped us.
She weaves between
steaming cups of tea
and crumbling shortbread
Her rosebud lips
pouting between tinkling
laughter
and polite murmurs.
she passes through me
and I gush tears.
I am stuck in the wake
till she slips out under the door.
I watch me collect and stack
dirty dishes,
despondent at her loss
while you boast how you
paid for the funeral.
My invisible aunt
with a birds nest hairdo
offers me an Avon catalogue
from the other side.
When I take her full plate
I think if I can hold onto it
long enough,
leftovers will be a good thing.
With a flick of your hand
you roar 'Everybody out!'
so only you claim me
in the night.
I feel the weight of you
across my chest.
I want you near me.
I beg you to talk to me
Comfort me.
You breathe hot nothings
in my ear
till my own hands
smother your mouth.
I assure you it is ok,
that I don't mind.
I don't;
not since the child ghost left.
She was like glue
now we are solvent.
I do what I must
because none of this is real.
As the radio alarm blares
'Please Don't Go',
you sink back into the carpet.
I become unstuck,
awake,
alone.
Gathered in my room
of quarantined love,
the dead skirt the perimeter,
whispering in groups
behind lace curtains.
You especially shape my outlook
when I arrive at this
cemetery of sleep.
There is a young child
flitting about anxiously
as if she is trapped.
She is the ghost who escaped us.
She weaves between
steaming cups of tea
and crumbling shortbread
Her rosebud lips
pouting between tinkling
laughter
and polite murmurs.
she passes through me
and I gush tears.
I am stuck in the wake
till she slips out under the door.
I watch me collect and stack
dirty dishes,
despondent at her loss
while you boast how you
paid for the funeral.
My invisible aunt
with a birds nest hairdo
offers me an Avon catalogue
from the other side.
When I take her full plate
I think if I can hold onto it
long enough,
leftovers will be a good thing.
With a flick of your hand
you roar 'Everybody out!'
so only you claim me
in the night.
I feel the weight of you
across my chest.
I want you near me.
I beg you to talk to me
Comfort me.
You breathe hot nothings
in my ear
till my own hands
smother your mouth.
I assure you it is ok,
that I don't mind.
I don't;
not since the child ghost left.
She was like glue
now we are solvent.
I do what I must
because none of this is real.
As the radio alarm blares
'Please Don't Go',
you sink back into the carpet.
I become unstuck,
awake,
alone.