Obsidian Foreboding

Layers of pitch bog down the night
Stagnant air filled with foreboding
But it's probably my overactive brain
Still suffering from the five cups 
of scalding murky caffeine
Guzzled this morning
Just to make me feel slightly awake
before sprinting to the office
Right?

My phone buzzes on my desk
bzz bzz bzz bzzzzz
like Beethoven's 5th symphony
dun dun dun dunnn
I hum as I begin to  
extract myself from the warmth
but hesitate
Early meeting tomorrow
Can't get sucked into the whirlpool
That is Candy Crush and Instagram,
Solitaire and Clash Royale
Again
but what if it's important?
Like someone's in the hospital
Or they're canceling the meeting?
I debate with myself
As mad-women do

My phone vibrates again
Solidifying my resolve
Not to get near my phone
But again and again
Beethoven on steroids
Incessant
The choice is out of my hands
Unlocking the device
As it vibrates in my hand

"We are under attack."
The glowing words proclaim
"Lock your doors and bar your windows"
Probably a scam
But.... what if?
Heavy footfalls to the door
Better safe than sorry

A flurry of texts
becomes a storm
Banging on my apartment door
Hinges about to fly off
But this has to be a dream
Right?

Pinching myself
Until crimson tears
Slapping my cheeks
Until it stings
Look through peephole
Screams echo
Faces of strangers
Morph into neighbors
My closest friends
My family
Pleading eyes
Bloody party dress
Torn PJs
Tears streaming
Begging
Nightmare
Reality
Hand on knob
cold metal bites
Slick with sweat
that is red
frozen
fear consumes
love wins
turning
flinging
open

heaving
dead 
crazed 
obsidian 
damp 


the hall is empty 

 

amaryllis

CA

YWP Alumni

More by amaryllis

  • Forgotten altars

    You blink and look and stare
    and stare

    As if trying to find the snag in the dream
    the catch in the sweater
    the cards hidden up someone's sleeves

    The meaning of this miracle that tapped you on the elbow
  • You, Tree

    As I sit on this stump and read
    from these pages of your cousin's pulped flesh,
    I burst with the excitement of next year seeing you draped in color,

    You. master of graceful loss.

    You, vessels of wasted breaths,
  • spiraling

    Spiraling odes of love and loss,
    lost pages strewn on the desk and the floor and the eyes and the sky and my limbs,
    each one with a piece of myself I do not want to see anymore.

    what have I created?