Sean Phelan
You weren’t supposed to find me here.
The light is gone, don’t try to find it.
Eventually you’ll learn your way around without seeing.
Dodging obstacles that take no form, no shape.
Just a solid presence, an obstruction.
You call out to me, but sound does not travel well here.
The walls are close and the ceiling short, crouching becomes the norm
.But it is not too bad, once you find your way.
You learn to not trust your eyes or your ears, and just walk.
You bump into less that way.But the lights do work.
And I know that. I turned them off.
My eyes grew tired, and looking became too painful.
I could clear the path, make my way to the light, turn it on, and live again.
But I always hit something.
Some obstruction that I knew was there, but I was so focused on that damn light.
It hurts so bad.
You try to help me, you try to convince me to keep going, but I’m gone again.
Retreated into the dark, wandering my empty paths.