she is again,
tasks piled so high, they
could nearly graze the curious
void lurking above if it
weren’t for the ceiling
that keeps them with her.
They grab fistfuls of her eyelashes,
pulling, coaxing her to drown in the
growing delirium. And she wants it so bad,
to let go into that sinful light, but
ticks crawl up her bedposts, through
her sheets, infesting her body with enough
guilt and self-loathing to press on.
If you look now, you can see her doubt and
shame boil over. What was once an annoyance
becomes a plague, joining the ticks,
feeding on her flesh. Time is not merciful.
It never was and it is not tonight. Dawn crawls
into her dimly lit chapel while the void
mocks her on its way out.
“You did this to yourself.”
Here she is again, the future’s
newborn rays holding hands with
unfinished business. Her will
near exhausted from her
system, but just wait, the
guilt always brings her back.
“See you tonight.”
Caroline Donnem '24