The great dragon comes down from the sky
I miss the little room
That sat between me and her because
Now that it’s gone, I cannot remember
How it ever existed.
She’s here all the time now, my new permanent roommate.
She painted the walls black and blue with her bare hands.
And then she becomes a part of me.
Nowadays, I am afraid of darkness.
I run every time the black blots the edges of my paper, like a plague
It spreads so I rip and tear
Get out get out get out.
I think this might have something to do with
The great dragon that has come down
From the sky,
Bringing with her a farmer’s yearly rain
Regardless of whether the crops
Have come into fruition.
When the wild things
Creep and crawl
That’s when the gruesome truth ensnares me-
Through the looking glass
I turn on the lights, and I sit staring
Into the sky
For a glimpse of my sun
But even when she does come out,
She’s half undone, encircled
And broken and
Oh, how I used to love the rain
Now I silently scream in pain
For it comes down on me like all of heavens’ wrath
And leaves me uprooted and slammed deep down into the unforgiving earth.
My succulent has been straining towards the light, but its petals are shriveled and wrinkled,
Now a series of overlapping, gnarly thin textures that resemble more a huge dust mite.
Like me, it now cowers from the day
Underneath the comforter
Unable to come out.