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Everyone is so worried
But I feel fine
They're obsessed: am I all right?
I answer yes; I'd tell them if it wasn't
I follow
Out of the room
Down the hall
Around the corner
And pause.
Black touches the edge of my vision--
Black with violet static--
What if I'm allergic?
A deep bass note builds
Resonating in my ears, so deep I can barely hear
As the black creeps inward
Faster
"Um." I want a chair--
I'll never make it there
Lean on the wall for balance
White paint is carpet now
And my legs aren't supporting me
A fabric of voices weaves across my mind
Somewhat tense. I want to help them, say something.
"I can still hear you."
As the words escape my mouth, the tapestry unravels to
Silence.
Beautiful darkness.
Though I passed out, there was no sense of time being noncontinuous, like when you sleep and are aware of waking up. One moment I was on the wall, and the next I was on the floor, and the sudden transition was a bit disorienting. I didn't fully realize my eyes were closed until I was asked to open them.
The tapestry of voices was isometric, woven in gold/white and purple/pink ribbons, and both colors were on top at every crossing. The beautiful darkness is because I was conscious to enjoy it.
(There used to be a comments form here. However, having seen what I get when I make it easy to comment, that form has been indefinitely suspended. I can still be reached by email at <loonxtall@hotmail.com>. I apologize for any inconvenience.)
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Lakeside Park is maintained by C. Daelhousen <loonxtall@hotmail.com>