Day Zero

They say the shock makes you tired.

Stumbling drowsy through haphazard facts

The reporter mouths empty words on the screen

They replay in a loop at night.

Distant words she can’t quite make out

Seeping distorted onto her pillow as she sleeps

Eyes ringed and lashes dewdrop silver

Pillow wet with black exhausted tears.

The midday sun burns through her wall.

A lazy wood pigeon cooed

Reminded her of school playing fields and snow white ankle socks.

Of old perfume bottles and a silver hairbrush

But that was before all this.

Before the tiredness came.

Before the carpet sank beneath each step

A lethargic grey glue.

Before the gnawing and the lurid dreams.

That came each night at lights out.

Gazing listless at a wide liquid world

Lights fading on a blank ocean

The whales drowning in her head, their song fading in her ears.

And that reporter again.

There are no hours left in this day.

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