Knife edge. Delirium

a poem by Charles Fisher, UK

Knife edge balance
Wobble, don't wobbled
Wobbly wobbled
It's too late
Fall into blade, slice
Waken up, he's in a cold sweat
No cuts
No blood from his skin
His skin covered in sweat
The bed sheets bathed in sweat
His hands shivers
He close the blade knife
His mind playing tricks
Delirium drums drum drum!
No place to runaway
The hospital bed, that
Is where he stay
The room is in darkness
Drips connect to his body
Bodyguard of antibiotics
Protect his body;
What about his mind?
No place to run from the knife


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