When you're used to being fed up, and then..
Mid that was, of one assumed mundane December days
Eyes opened for few planned usages of sight, yet farsighted.
Attempt to accrue life, to escape, yet foot chained down
Walking unbothered on creaking flat, rolling up sleeves
With hardtack in the mouth, tied up hair pulled to tighten.
A morning exercise of looking out from blurry
Window glass, spotting signs of life and movements,
Interactions to ignore.
Hardtack is enough to avoid being shouted at the factory.
Consider it conservation of energy and its sources.
Road not always clear as the food storage, but
As how getting by goes, discovered pathways
With least lights, far from consuming nods and waves.
Living chains unlock itself, once met the door.
Exhales, but specs indeed a need to survive.
People around showing dull faces, done as I.
Some offering “free ride”, then will ask–
“Donation at any amount, five coppers would do”
We’re indeed merchants after all, yet couldn’t avoid
Disgust and distrust flow along with platelets.
Grinds; as clock strikes 5:01, limbs up and walk
Away from cursed factory chair, outstrip
Wood dust, eyes happily bid goodbye
To exhausted co-machineries.
Alas! Blood starts to run up to the brain.
December cold couldn’t bother a body
With skin thickened by scars from silent wars,
Where winter as all year-round season at "home"; then removed
The patched coat, let snowflakes touch skin covered with grease and stains,
Worry not to freezing, as arm got frostbites never healed.
A place out of familiarity, was along the
Low lit road full of life but of tall hibernating trees,
Cabin dumped by thick piles of snow, yet light illuminating
Cozy and warm from afar – indeed strange.
Mystified yet afraid; feet walk towards the door, opened pronto.
“Welcome home,” said the rug; cinnamon scent and
Fire made eyes drop a tear - t’was just snowflakes
Stuck in my eyes, melted. Chest pumping fast,
Then a cup of hot chocolate appeared on the
Long-dead hand, a stranger made it.
Confused; yet found myself sitting in front
Of a cedar-made mini bar; coffee aroma
Then filled the air, seems bitter yet made temples
Unstiffen. Eyes could never look up, psyche overwhelmed,
Snow kept melting; A sudden “Drink it up, before it gets cold.”
“I can’t,” said the filthy mouth, “might have poison in it.”
Laugh awkwardly made the room warmer, “hence, I assume
A sip could assure you, yet consequence will be walking you
Home.” Out of words, warmth starts penetrating the frozen soul.
Frostbites scabbing, held it tight.
Comfort of strangeness sprouting as a weed grew despite the cruelty of
Avalanches, fondness burgeoning; never reckoned a
Chemical imbalance could happen to a zombie playing in between
Life and death; crossing white side so swift, feet couldn't help but
To step back to black – yet warmth kept pulling, finding myself in grey.
Never enjoyed that color; yet decided not to go back to old pitch
Hesitantly enjoyed hot chocolate, hard skin continues to peel off.
Offered another cup, then a walk home – again just silently
Consuming strange bitter-sweetness; cycle went on in subtlety.
Stood up in front of window, never felt happy looking outside.
Glanced at frostbitten arm, undoubtedly healing;
Brain decided to share some blood to its heart, in sync.
Yet a sudden familiar coldness crawled through the spine;
Room turned into darkness, in just a blink, once warmed body
Found itself beside road standing up into knee-high snow - flummoxed.
All corners were again filled with hibernating trees and snow,
Heart voluntarily stopped using its share of blood, brain trying to troubleshoot
As fast as it could; it was then disgust and distrust ceased flowing
Vomited them all; disheartened, brain sent down platelets’ its
New colleague – “I’m displeased to introduce you to ... remorse.”
© 2021 Kathrine S