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Description
She had become waxy in the fluorescent lights that cast shadows upon the floor like the modernized dirt of poison that was society. The destruction of the shards of a shattered faith that now was turned a ghastly shade of putrid yellow in the brightest light the eyes would tolerate. Darkness was the company and light an adversary to be conquered only when clouds gave chance – and only then was it truly safe to venture outside.
But even the artificial lights hurt and burned, so that you squinted in pain as you wandered into the bathroom, searching for the scraps of paper that were there only to be tossed into the garbage after you left a trail of your very own self all over them, in the form of an unpleasant goop, with eyes too red and swollen to really be of any use, while the wet that coated them just magnified the light’s intensity and you suffered in your shallow case of a body.
And then there were the headaches which came without warning while you sat before the luminescent screen that represented all you could stake anything like a claim to in your sorry excuse for a life, your features washed deathly in that glow, and your once healthy skin crippled underneath a glow that could kill.
So you returned to your dark little corner, laying awake ‘til the only thing left was a rational madness that tore your soul apart and ate you for breakfast, watching the lights from cars filter through the blinds, casting sinuous blue shadows of light trailing across the wall’s face, in that odd and sensual way that cars cast light-shadows that made you think of love affairs, while the wall enjoyed its brief tryst with headlights.
But soon the dark became light and everything was blue because there was nothing else, and above your head hung that old dream catcher that you prayed to every night, hoping for something better, because a cross never did you any good, and a good dream’s your best hope.
But you know you’re mad when you don’t dream, and there are no dreams, just vague recollections of the claws on your face, and you know who it is, but you don’t care, you want your rest – you haven’t slept hardly at all and no one could ever tell.
Or no one who matters, and it’s they who keep you up at night, because no matter what, you know you’ll loose.
The concentrated and painful beam of a flashlight and you hold your breath and lay still, praying it won’t see you.
Then the sounds of elephants trundling slowly down a staircase too thin for it, and you exhale, safe again, until there’s that flush, and the light comes back, and you hide again, hidden away in the shadows, with the whites of your eyes bugging out from beneath the covers, searching for the danger that only you know and no one else believes exists.

Description
She had become waxy in the fluorescent lights that cast shadows upon the floor like the modernized dirt of poison that was society. The destruction of the shards of a shattered faith that now was turned a ghastly shade of putrid yellow in the brightest light the eyes would tolerate. Darkness was the company and light an adversary to be conquered only when clouds gave chance – and only then was it truly safe to venture outside.
But even the artificial lights hurt and burned, so that you squinted in pain as you wandered into the bathroom, searching for the scraps of paper that were there only to be tossed into the garbage after you left a trail of your very own self all over them, in the form of an unpleasant goop, with eyes too red and swollen to really be of any use, while the wet that coated them just magnified the light’s intensity and you suffered in your shallow case of a body.
And then there were the headaches which came without warning while you sat before the luminescent screen that represented all you could stake anything like a claim to in your sorry excuse for a life, your features washed deathly in that glow, and your once healthy skin crippled underneath a glow that could kill.
So you returned to your dark little corner, laying awake ‘til the only thing left was a rational madness that tore your soul apart and ate you for breakfast, watching the lights from cars filter through the blinds, casting sinuous blue shadows of light trailing across the wall’s face, in that odd and sensual way that cars cast light-shadows that made you think of love affairs, while the wall enjoyed its brief tryst with headlights.
But soon the dark became light and everything was blue because there was nothing else, and above your head hung that old dream catcher that you prayed to every night, hoping for something better, because a cross never did you any good, and a good dream’s your best hope.
But you know you’re mad when you don’t dream, and there are no dreams, just vague recollections of the claws on your face, and you know who it is, but you don’t care, you want your rest – you haven’t slept hardly at all and no one could ever tell.
Or no one who matters, and it’s they who keep you up at night, because no matter what, you know you’ll loose.
The concentrated and painful beam of a flashlight and you hold your breath and lay still, praying it won’t see you.
Then the sounds of elephants trundling slowly down a staircase too thin for it, and you exhale, safe again, until there’s that flush, and the light comes back, and you hide again, hidden away in the shadows, with the whites of your eyes bugging out from beneath the covers, searching for the danger that only you know and no one else believes exists.