Ill.
Semi-detached with rooms fits only one.
The darkness feels eternal.

Fear
Nocturnal room states inflate thoughts of
Nothing.

Closing my eyes to wake?
Nothing.

Weeks.
Smells to rise
Neighbours surprise
For them to kick the door in to see me there
Eyes closed doing
Nothing.

No glow of anything
Hence I’m sun waiting.
Warmth from rays bathing me like..
Well..
Like my mum.

We only have one sun.

Wayne Thomas © 2011