The clock
Beats time on the wall, one, two, three hours that I’ve been lying on my back,
My side, my front. Sleep, sleep.
Tap out the time in lines on my white walls. Sleep, sleep, sleep.
Lights on, lights off. Count the bruises on my legs. One, two, three
Purple stains on my calf, my thigh. Sleep, sleep.
White walls, my clock
Taps out time. One, two, three clicks mark another wasted night, another neon light.
Sleep, sleep.
My lighter sparks, one, two, three glimpses
Of my face in the mirror, striated, dilapidated, my mother’s eyes–
Sleep, sleep.
Louise Knight, Scotland
The Social Poet 