Poem 42: Leaden

Leaden-- 

to breathe,

to eat, 

to drink, 

too great an effort 

for my brain 

shuts 

        windows 

closes 

        curtains and 

locks 

        the door.

Arms growing weak, too

weak to move 

a pen across 

the page.

What saves me is

this moment, is all

      floating 

      between worlds,

needing, 

doing without, 

wanting to 

curl around and cradle

my silky self.

Simply not enough 

        to cook,

        to water, 

        to want,

to eat 

   waffles-and-ice-cream 

     on the boardwalk

       faster than 

         it can melt.

(c) 2013, by Hannah Six

Wildwood, NJ

Poem 42: Leaden