The blue in your eyes is gone and only
the grey remains. Flecked with black ash they burn
like a poisoned flame. For your voice I yearn
to hear. Those words you once spoke so softly
are now chunks of barbed wire in your coarse mouth.
I reach out to touch your hand but it breaks
into porcelain shards. My tiny hand shakes
as the blood—scarlet—rains down upon the couch.
The clock bellows in the hallway. I wake
and see only darkness. You are not there
when I turn around. The white sheets are bare.
I slink into the office, scared, hoping
you have not left. And there you are, sleeping.
I sigh, relieved. Nightmares; the scenes they fake.