she hunches small and inconspicuous inside the box she calls home,
the satin night resting heavily inside her chest;
in her mind flit memories like birds,
while she wonders whether she will be able to make more
there is an earthquake beneath her skin and her hands tremble
as they run over ladders riding up her arms;
the moon is tied to the earth by an invisible cord –
it will swing around in circles until one day it doesn't
her chest gapes like a black hole, silence roars in her ears
life has no purpose anyway
but still she edges forward:
the darkness blinds her but she keeps her eyes closed
the ground is uneven and her feet stumble –
but she keeps going,
sleepwalking through the days;
being kept up by impudent ghosts at night
some times, screams lodge in her throat and oceans pour from her eyes
other times, she consists of nothing but a void
what a foolish mistake it is, to trust in the stars! –
better to adjust to the lack of light, and be grateful whenever it passes.
the candlelight burns slowly but irrevocably down to its death,
gravity pulls at her shoulders;
there is no battlefield, only the dirty bedroom floor
there are no war cries, only the sound of her dandelion heart beating
there is no finish line,
only a black road stretching beyond the horizon,
(invisible eyes following her every move)
and just crawling forward with aching limbs and waves crashing over her head
until time reaches its limit
and the dawn breaks.
13.8.17
