I often imagine the white ceiling swallows me.
I melt into its whiteness, pure immaculate surface,
melting inside it would also mean spreading my blood
and all my organs onto the snow-like painted area,
large square unstained above the bed, the sofa, the settee,
the floor boards on which I often lay, day-dreaming,
anticipating other nightmares to come, to form, to be grown,
more to escape from or jump over to feel within the norms.
I attend the absorption and all my body stretches until it blows out
and a blood red patch as large as I would end if I crashed from
the top floor of the world highest building ever formed
splatters, morphes, moves and moulders into an inconceivable
mirror reflecting the worst imaginable thoughts stacked from the beginning of my life.
Walter Ruhlmann works as an English teacher, edits mgversion2>datura and runs mgv2>publishing. His latest collections are Maore published by Lapwing Publications, UK, 2013, Carmine Carnival published by Lazarus Media, USA, 2013 and The Loss through Flutter Press, USA, 2014. Coming up in 2014, Crossing Puddles through Robocup Press, and Twelve Times Thirteen through Kind of a Hurricane Press.His blog http://thenightorchid.