A Mind's Room

A Craig Cornish Contest: Empty Room ------------------ A kaleidoscope of unknown thrill rushes within my swollen veins, needle-pricked – and the liquid opiate carries me high, upstream like a somersault in a glistening parade of a trance intoxicated by multi-colored yet surreal imaginings, absent from the pungent flavor of bleak reality… I Am nothing but dust--- till the sensation drains. The blue hour arrives, a period between morning and dusk as twilight reflects the fading of my mind’s room … where my heart aches till dawn snaps this evil poison, And I cannot grasp soiled dust in my eyes, The glassy sheets that lay me down on damp floor forgetting not how pore of my flesh clots, feverish when in tears: my body trembles in this sordid room on lease—while I am unable to wait for the next kick of midnight.