Jaye Marie and Anita Dawes

Image by Evgeni Tcherkasski from Pixabay 

The Light

I am stabbed.
My life blood ebbing from my body
Seeping through the floorboards
I see a lighthouse before the room goes dark.
I walk on illuminated water,
up the steps, there is no one there.
It’s just a large rock with a lamp on it.
I walk back toward the shore,
wondering when I will sink beneath the waves.
I cannot feel the sand beneath my feet.
People walk through me; I feel their electricity.
My body falls to the floor like unwanted clothing.
Yet, I am in front of a mirror.
People gather round, looking at my naked body.
They turn their heads, trying to find me.
I am not there.
I turn back to the water and sink beneath the waves.
I see the light before the dark takes the last spark,
that once was David Turner…

©AnitaDawes2023