WD 204 “Nightshade”

A poem inspired by The Muse of Cold Earth.

Nightshade 

I’m wavering

As the cool night air spreads from my fingertips 

Goodnight sounds like good-riddance

As my body is riddled with strange waves of paralysis 

The dark is so still that it makes sounds 

Like harsh knocking on the front door (Did I lock it?)

Each flower pedal spreads itself instead of huddling together

For warmth and understanding  

And I’m the man in the mirror, and the man standing in front of it 

With no voice but my own