Night Write

This is a bit of experimental writing. I wrote this with the lights off in bed in the middle of the night. I wrote the original with a pencil on a note book. The note book was lined but as I could not see the lines I wrote from left to right without considering them. The result was writing that sloped in various directions and sometimes lines intermingled with each other. I am left handed and I treated my left arm like a phantom arm and let it write whatever it wanted. The results are interesting.

Writing in the dark cannot see what is

Being written, the rain falls and washes

All away, the wind sighs

And remembers

Past faults.

Cannot change them now need to look

Ahead but keep looking back, break

Eye contact release myself from the hypnotic stare

Of hindsight’s little sister

Crowing its presence making me limp

And pliable.

Lost in my thoughts, my dreams,

Unable to move frozen in time,

Lost in space, the edges of sanity

The realm of despair,

The shards of collapse

When buildings fall from the tremors of the past

Lost to the world, lost to myself, never to be heard from

Again, never to smile, never to sing, never to say

What ails me and how you could have helped.

Silence breaks the quiet of my thoughts

It shrieks the command to obey, to become unheard

To rot in the stench of my own thoughts

To sleep in the smothering sheets of this bed

To close my heart to the music of songbirds

And the roar of a plane overhead.

To hold my tongue for eternity until it falls off from disuse,

Useless appendage, unwanted, unused

A slate washed clean by a mindless ogre

No sound, no words, no ideas

Nothing to say, nothing to hear

Everything to fear

Rust sets in, the tongue cannot be loosened

No ideas emerge from the crowded mind

No one to share them with, no one to hear them.

Sleep eludes me, a game of hide and seek

Lurking in the dark creases of my room it creeps

Round my bed in tiptoes darting away when I reach

For it, out of sight, untouchable

I wish I was a million miles

Away, not here, enclosed by these four walls,

Contained, secured. I wish I was free

To roam the spaces between the spaces

The cavities within cavities,

Floating up into the heavens

Watch the earth from up high,

I wish I could fly

Far away from here and have sweet dreams, best

In the world. I lapse into silence. There is nothing left,

Nothing to dream of, nothing

To believe in, nothing to live for, nothing.

The darkness has enveloped me at last.

Tired, but the hand still moves like an independent entity

That does not obey the rules of the rest of me

Desperate to communicate something of which I am unaware

Tiring one minute and then

Spurting forward with such force and power that scares

Me, a monstrous hand that refuses to be

Stilled, that revels in the darkness of its new found freedom

To write that which the eye cannot see

But the mind understands

And the hand reproduces

Could it be that the hand wishes to speak

Without the interference of the mind?