the light grew dim
By Gwen Bowman
The panicking rose, the heart began to race, and the light grew dim.
The pain was deeper, the gashes wounding the heart. The light grew dim.
Tumbling down the never ending rabbit’s hole, completely weightless
Unsure of bearings, location, the time of day. The light grew dim.
Her last touch left a hand shaped kiss upon my cheek, red as a rose.
My skin decorated with blue and black circles, the light grew dim.
She was happy, the life of the party, always wanting more thrills
One night, the fun went too far, and the sirens wailed. The light grew dim.
I was alone in my room, watching the late night news quietly.
There’s yet more suffering. I unplug the TV. The light grew dim.
They look at their phones, their laps, ignoring what’s uncomfortable.
It’s not their business to meddle in others’ lives. The light grew dim.
A girl cries into her pillow after school, having failed again.
Some days, it feels like her world is falling apart. The light grew dim.
It was too much for him to handle, too much anger and hatred.
He took the last option left and pulled the trigger. The light grew dim.
The path was hers to take. The autumn trees bore witness to her moves.
After just one step, the girl turned and ran away. The light grew dim.
The child was kneeled over, gasping for breath. He was so afraid.
The bully was about to throw another punch. The light grew dim.
Black waves roll up to shore, threatening to drag me underwater.
The struggle to keep breathing grows harder each day. The light grew dim.
The full moon shined brightly as it gently floated across the sky.
The cloud barred its way forward and engulfed the moon. The light grew dim.