A candle burns in the dark.
Hot wax leaking down my fingers, and
Searing pen to paper as the supine figure comes alive.
The silence squeezes into a fist my ear drum.
I'm a heap of broken mirrors,
Balled up sheets and shattered glasses
I pull my sleeves and skin myself
Gnaw my brain to sip moist nectar
Dripping down my chin to blank open pages.
I'm a zombie, an alien draped in creative license
Hidden in a vault of unspoken words.