Personification
As disheveled as clean cut
in artificial silhouette,
too late
for relativity to matter.
The window approaches,
with creaks and groans
that some year before
would have recognized so much better.
Sounds locked into memory,
along with pain,
climbing stairs slowly,
lacking just the right amount of certainty.
Hesitation a moment before
stops mattering a moment after,
only left to wonder
what is left now.
So closed eyes try to complete the task,
out of focus and dancing,
all black and blue,
too fresh for scars.
Dreams serve more to shake and alarm
than to calmly guide,
they are wisely fleeting
with the rest of the world.
Silence only adds
to this kind of chaos,
as the inferno breathes
the same as you and I.
The blanket and the pillows
don’t know who to trust,
though they never
asked for much in the first place.
In the end, rest is left
running until fear sees
its reflection in a mirror
and pauses everything.
Here, infinity holds a secret:
proximity, it whispers,
has never before
healed a wound.
