I sit in a room with my eyes

    03/11/18 - 03/12/18

Anonymous

 

I sit in a room with my eyes

 

and I am surrounded by my thoughts

crouched on their haunches

I look at them and they see

right through me

as though my skin is translucent

and though my insides are nothing

but fingers and tongues

for hours I sit in this room

unidentifiable to watching eyes

as invisible to the world around

as it is to me

my skin is translucent

it is thin and fragile

in the light from the windows

in the sound of life

in the bones of the house that rocks me

my insides are nothing

nothing but fingers

and nothing but tongues

and hot breath

I sit in a room with my eyes

and all of the windows are shut

and all of the blinds

and there are portraits on the walls

and their eyes meet across the room

and I am so tired but I cannot close mine

so I sit in a room with my eyes

resigned to the sleepless nights

resigned to the touch of the breeze

to the restlessness of my thoughts

and sometimes to the screams

the screams that are too loud to hear

the screams of a silent fear

the screams inside my dreams

and their eyes pierce right through me

but they are so soft

and they are so kind

I am resigned to all of the eyes

passing by with fleeting lashes lowered

like the frost on the windows

that only just blocks the sun

and the cracks in the plaster

seem to mirror the cracks

in my fingernails

the cracks in my palms

I will myself to stop thinking

but my thoughts are vultures

closing in faster than I can twist away

and I sit in a room with my eyes

and I dare not look around me

and I dare not meet their eyes

I dare not rise

from the floor where my body is sitting

she is sitting limp and unimpressionable

and she is so tired of all of the eyes

of all of the fingers and tongues

she is tired of the skin on her thighs

feeling hot and orange in the night

feeling like frozen paper in the morning

she is tired of all of the eyes

she is tired of the breath

expelled in deep sighs

for each exhale my body has to suck

air back in again

hot squalid air

I still have to suck

it all up and cross my legs at the knee

and lower my eyes in the street

and I sit in this room with my eyes

both afraid of and awaiting the darkness

that will render them entirely useless

afraid of the hunched figures

squatting around me

squatting boggle eyed in the dying light

and there’s a throbbing in my face

in my forehead a heartbeat

will my heart beat out the embers

I cannot feel the flames

I cannot feel the heat on my face

only my thighs

I can’t feel the rise

and fall of each breath

and the walls seem to fall outwards

and the world rushes into me

and for a sweet second I can feel my insides

they are churning with a yearning

but I blink too fast and once again

I sit in a room with my eyes