One Night

He woke up

Clutching

His bony chest.

-

Holding back the waves of nausea

Which thrusted back and forth in his throat

Crashing around.

-

Looking next to his body, he saw her.

Closed eyes, gentle breathing, apparently relaxed.

-

His family ties had tied him up,

But he had loosened that knot some years ago,

And felt a fear when realising he had given himself now

To a new version of that which he had run from.

-

He remembered her screams, he remembered the thrown plates

Thrown fans, thrown books, throwing up from the nerves

-

Again.

-

He would have sworn that his anxiety must be contagious

And as he moved, his bones just wept,

He’d never felt so ancient.

-

Time has passed his body by,

Leaving without saying goodbye,

But giving one more cramp to his stomach on the way out.

-

And so, there in the darkness,

He sat, and pondered, and worried, and panicked

And went to sleep again.

-

One night he would repeat this act

And never wake again.