Shut In


I’ve shut
the door again
turned off the telephone
shades drawn tight

knees to my chest
climbing down my throat
I turn inside out

lines converge
loosing sight
a mood of light

now well set in
a little better
within these walls
I’ve chosen to confine

that bitter taste
so so sweet
so so right

corner of the night
hidden away
left alone

don’t you dare
just in spite
warped little mind

laughing
coming from behind
breaking silence
blaring sound

that awful feeling
instance of fright
sickening though
I think I like

one hanging light
at the end
the painted hall
one chair to sit
a door too nondescript

endless barefoot running
thought of painful splinters
stained hardwood floor.

Jeff Berner©
3/2000

Art Writings