as my skin glows beneath the sun.
Its rays break through my curtains,
inhabited by small specks of dust
dancing above the mounds of cloth.
There I lie, turning my head over my shoulder
to see the pills and pens.
Lined up on my nightstand in uniform
like a murder of perching crows.
Swearing, I hear the faintest of their calls,
mocking the grimace
on my face.
I eventually lift each finger,
one after another
to cultivate the slightest bit of motion.
Though my other limbs stay stagnant,
as if they were tied
in a bouquet.
I somehow unravel myself,
leaning against the wall
with legs I feel
I have never used.
Beyond the hallway,
a morning light eclipsed
by broken blinds
casts a shadow beneath my feet,
revealing the silhouette
of a walking corpse.
I watch it converge
into the pitch-black of the porcelain tiles.
Where it greets me again,
now under
a fraudulent sun.
-- Johnathan N., Adult
-- Johnathan N., Adult