I draw the curtains.
Now it is dark.
Just like everyday is- full of darkness.
I forget the world outside,
the world that feels stuck
and I am not quite sure who I am.
Your cold hand is over my heart,
my hand is wiping my eyes smudged with tears
and I know that together we will lose.
What about my will to survive?
All the good reasons to live fade
or turn sour.
I feel hollow
yet full of strange, delicate energy.
Like an old tree sinking into the earth,
it’s roots around my body
sapping my strength.
Now everything is silent,
a familiar silence.
Dreams having fallen away from me.
Secrets having dissolved in my eyes.
Do I have the guts to go on?
Do I want it enough?
I open the fridge door and stare for a while,
into that little lighted world
with its air of hopefulness
and I realise…
I do want it,
and I have