The Creature She's Become

by Audrey

Small bumps in the road
Stir the body of a lonely girl.
Slivers of light scurry, hurry
up her hollow face
And decimate
Into December. 

They pitter patter lightly, though,
They’re not enough to wake her. 
She hibernates in winter snow -
Eyes open - no one knows she’s sleeping. 
She blinks through frosted balls of glass.
As hours pass, lashes freeze
Her leaking thoughts...
She stops herself from weeping.

She’s been asleep for months now.
Have you seen her? Have you tried?
Do you notice how she stumbles
through the crowded darkness - 
Hunting shadows that are big enough
For her to hide?
A crowded world is empty when it’s dark,
And eyes have kept a slumbered distance,
So she shrinks into a blackened safety
And pays the toll of silent insignificance.

She’s been buried in the snow - 
Pushed in, and then she did the rest.
She shoveled silky white
Until she blended into scenery -
Erased from all humanity
As footprints trampled on her chest.

Paralysis - she sleeps, but doesn’t rest.
She arms herself with calloused hands,
Made rough through winter flakes

But now, she wakes.

Emerging into open fire,
Car windows strip her from the shadows,
And leave her bare in piecing light.
A stinging glare slaps cruelly,
Beats out illusions of eternal night.
Droplets run loose,
To try to trickle down into the cracks -
The criminal of dawn attacks,
Day is inescapable,
And it’s then she knows for certain
That she’s become incapable
Of being human.

For what could be more alianating
Than crying at the sight of sun itself?
She’s frightened on an unfamiliar planet
Surrounded by a different species,
And sobbing at the symbol of prosperity -
The shining yellow entity -
Of life, of joy, on Earth.