By Alanna Phelan
Sandpaper throat, sobbing without tears,
Hesitant, staring blank as the ceiling
Searching for familiar nightmares
While the volts surge through stagnant air
Leaving the frame reeling
God, what is this feeling!
Buckles on boots jingle as feet swing feet
Above the pavement, kicking crispness
Into the morning air, bouncing to a beat
Silent to all others, harmonising body and street
The red petals, and blue blooms of bruises
Unravel in this golden-brown promise of healing
The rotting old roots wither and decay,
From their husk, the body electric revived!
Daughter of Daphne seizes the day
The brutes of night now her prey
Her cheeks ache, still learning how to rise
Without command, a smile revealing.