Contradictions. Poem by Lesley Taylor

It's nighttime again.
The windows wide open
and it's letting in the frosty midnight air
and my room's like a vacuum
pulling it all in.
The little radiator is working in overtime to fight it,
but i've always been full of contradictions.
Jesus hags in the corner
on His glow-in-the-dark cross
but I keep the light on to scare away the demons
a back up plan in case all of my faith is in vain.
Yeah, it's come to this again.
Everything cut into fragments
and laying on a lighted table to be analyzed
all my hopes disected
and turned into shadows against the
'luminescent reality'
-or maybe it was all so dark
they couldn't withstand it and blinked out
and faded into the rest of my mind
like a soloist disappearing into a faceless choir
after a bright and fleeting identity
-lost.
It's a small orbit,
tightly knotted around a center of dispair
releasing slightly at the height of each pulse
but pulse slows down in winter.

I'm hiding under my blankets.
The curtains are still moving in time to the wind
the radiator still pushes forth its heat
the light still hums inaudibly above my bed

and Jsus would glowif i gave Him an opportunity,
but it's a long walk from here to the corner in which He stands.

-It's always comfortable to stay where you are.