Overexposure

Afraid of the light
I hide in my red
den.

From the other side
it looks like black and white
but from my angle:

death.
It haunts like some stalking shadow,
a vague whisper of night.
A relentless night,
an endless night.

Someday you will find me
crushed beneath the weight
of my sins,
stiff and cold. What a sight.

I long for warmth,
but the bright glare
overwhelms

into startling grey dots
that swim past my reality.
Marred

pour of blue substanceless
fear.
Empty words

as meaningless as any truth
scream aimlessly
into pretense.

Mythic hopes
vanish delicately
into the blackness.

Please ignore me,
and shut that door behind you.
I shun the day,

and the phosphorescent glow
that accompanies it.
It hurts

stabbing like a murderous acupunturess
with dark advice on the sensitivity
of nerves.

The salve of darkness cloaks
while I rest from the numbing
overexposure.


Alexandra Montero-Webber

©2001

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