This

I linger

and for a minute

I can’t focus my eyes.

They dart about the tiniest of rooms.

There are pictures and landscapes

and clocks hanging on the walls

telling me what time it is.

A globe of the world is in the far corner

I walk over and spin it.

It’s 3am.

I check the door and it’s locked

pressure builds in my ears

a sinking ship.

There’s a change in me:

pigtails and freckles still cover

but the leather I lay upon creaks

like I’m old.

Or maybe

I’m new with a red ribbon tied around me

waiting for you to unwrap.

The wind is blowing outside

how is it that you do not hear?

From this tiny room and these four walls

maps and frames

it howls and breaks.

Bearing upon us messages

as we perch like birds.

I begin to focus and the scene shocks me:

the lump of fear

screams into my view.

It is black

red

and loud

I panic.

You panic

and we blur for another day.