A second after the world ended.
It was still sunny, it was bright,
She didn’t even notice.
A lonely walk in the park.
It was still green, it was safe,
She didn’t want to argue.
A calming mask on her face.
It was still daytime, it was real,
She didn’t want to go home.
Washing memories off her skin.
It was still thick, it was hers,
She didn’t want another.
A room went missing,
Such things happen.
Counting fewer stairs,
As many do.
There were fewer dishes in the kitchen.
Her mattress felt thinner too.
Fewer minutes on the clock face.
It was still night, it was safe,
She didn’t need much sleep.
Fewer seasons on the calendar.
It was still autumn, it was dark,
She didn’t care for weather.
Fewer pages in the notebook.
It was still written, it was mean,
She couldn’t quite remember.
The floors came looser,
Things slipped through them.
Everything she needed
Ground floor boards still seemed to hold up.
For how long, she didn’t know.
Dusty shades snaked round her wrist.
I cannot feel the glass, she said,
And stepped back from the window.
Light switches peeled off the wall.
I cannot feel the way, she said,
And sank into a shadow.
Bitter winds howled through the hall.
I cannot close the door, she said,
And turned into a whisper.