Stormy Shoals: A Poetry Collection

Invisible Smoke

I wake up in the middle of the night,

screaming, 

drenched in sweat.

The sky is inky black, 

the shadows stretching over my room

suffocatingly thick.

I pace like a ghost,

breathing hard,

pressing a hand to my chest

and feeling my heart flutter against my visible ribs.

My mind wanders to Lee,

wondering how she's sleeping.

I'm like her now --

anxiety keeping me up.

She puts me to sleep.

I cross to the window,

smelling invisible smoke, 

face spectral and pale from the moonlight

reflected in the cool glass.

The same moonlight is on me

as her.

I sigh and, suddenly cold,

lay down on the floor.

I realize I am stark naked.

I don't mind.

My shoulder blades and hip bones

jut into the slate floor.

The pain feels good, 

but the icy floor is still cuttingly cold,

ash settling onto my clammy skin.

I open my eyes for the first time --

how odd, I was looking around --

and see the room licked by frosty tongues of flames.

I let them consume me.

I am alone.

I always will be.