12 am
Eyes sealed shut, brain barely blinking
Dainty pinks are my warm delights
Melodic yellows glow my soul
Vicky’s softly spoken secrets hidden in girly bags cover my space
Lying in my bed, I am an innocent child
Awakened while curled in fetal position
Gaining no comfort from my inner demonic twin
Zombie-like, I—we—step over my fragile threshold
Cross over into her bulky blackberry—not purple—blob
Her comfort zone
With its dirt-slated windows; murky from many ill-natured unprecedented adventures and
Rude road-raging radio; only quiet when innocent thoughts turn into wild pedestrians
I am she
Driving the night life
Laughing wickedly as the blob melts between cars
Squishing through His hands like quicksand
Our life constantly being played like a gray Nintendo GameBoy
How many lives do I left?
5 am
Drowning within the oceans of pinks and yellows—I am back amongst the living
Crashing sweaty waves against my blissful mellowness
Harsh breathing in barely audible whispers
“Oh, Lord
Cleanse me of my sins”
Words & Sounds,
P. Nicole
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