Darren’s Room Poem by Steve Downes

A window to a wall
a dull council grey that exists nowhere in nature
a few square feet of glass
dividing what is inside from the wider world
retina thin and translucent
letting in the march gloom
half-illuminating his mind
a forty watt light not enough to set a fire
but yet too much for ignorance
too much for quiet blissful darkness
the embers are smouldering
burning black holes
in his face
in his brain
in his soul
he feels that soul move
a half-hearted heart beat
a foetus kick in the belly of the self
that is why he broke
that is why he beat
that is why he scream
that is why he drank the poison
that is why he snorted the dust
that is why
he can not articulate
he can not voice the pain in whispers or words
he can not imagine the images in colours
the smoke from the ash is too thick
chokes his eyes
makes blind the metaphors he would
sing from his sore cut throat
and deafens the song he would paint on the wall
in brilliant screams
a window in a wall to a wall
he can only see through it
to what is really there
he can not see past it
not today
on his own
not ever