Poetry Tuesday – Pulled

I open my eyes and try to focus;

Black stretches endlessly ahead.

Extending my arms, I reach for nothing;

My fingers grasp at air.

Dimly illuminated stone walls

Down my left and right,

But where does the light come from?

Not one window or single torch,

Nothing to light my way.

Taking a hesitant step,

I move slowly forward,

And the air looms around me,

Resting on my skin.

I break into a cold sweat.

Quivering step by step,

I walk without knowing what to do.

Silence so still,

I swear I hear something in it.

Stop, listen: bleak and utter silence,

The kind that prickles fine hairs,

Sending chills up and down the spine.

I grow weary and dizzy.

My insides churn and turn.

Ringing penetrates my ears;

My mind whirls and swirls.

Hold on to something: the cold air;

Lean on the damp, hard walls for support,

A useless attempt.

Nothing ahead still, so now where?

Turn around, turn around;

How did I get here?

Breathe in, hold, exhale, relax.

I turn and take a uncertain step.

Preventing my aching foot from going on,

A wall stops me.

Strange, was it always there?

No other choice.

Move ahead again.

Sighing, I continue my pointless journey

To who knows what end

(If there is one).

Sudden cold permeates my being.

I look in horror at the walls.

They lose their solidarity,

Becoming molten and gaseous,

A grey cloud closing in,

Mingling with my skin.

Its absolute zero freezes me still.

I wince inside, close my eyes.

Blackness, at least not that grey.

From nowhere, a hand reaches out,

Right in front of my eyes.

I see no body, no face to whom it belongs.

I hear a low, steady voice:

“You’ll be okay.”

I open my eyes

And am safe in my bed.

LIKE WHAT YOU’VE READ?  PLEASE SUBSCRIBE TO MY BLOG, WHERE I POST A POEM EVERY TUESDAY.

My novel, Lorna versus Laura, is available for $4.99 here.

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Author: Cynthia "Cyndi" Hilston

Cynthia Hilston is a thirty-something-year-old stay at home mom of three young kids, happily married. Writing has always been like another child to her. After twenty years of waltzing in the world of fan fiction, she finally stepped away to do her debut dance with original works of fiction. In her spare time – what spare time? – she devours books, watches Doctor Who and Game of Thrones, pets her orange kitty, looks at the stars, and dreams of what other stories she wishes to tell.  

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