A poem by SOPHIA WALLS.
I stumbled then fell, the water’s surface a door closing everything behind me.
I banged, pulled, slammed, thudded, dialling numbers, numbers, numbers.
But the surface was fading away. Answer, answer, answer, answer, please.
Hannah, Amanda, Peter, Fred. Who would answer?
Someone get me out of here, get me out:
Drown out these voices drowning out me.
Who will accept me into the world above? Bring me back to the surface?
Who? Who? Who? Let me out.
Beeps and ‘’sorry your call is not available right now’’.
Why should anyone answer my desperate cries for acceptance when
these worlds of mine, will not?
Name after name and number and loud speaker and red, unhopeful hang-ups, glaring all the hope out of me.
Where was my existence? Where the was it? Get me out of here so I can find it
amidst the long, long chats, the compliments. A reply, a call back, the green of a response? Where was the proof of my existence?
Where was the belief in it?
My hands found themselves, nails scratching against skin in harsh desperation
amidst the red and orange unanswered phone-calls, and giant ‘’active now’’ signs above tiny pictures.
Warnings of warnings.
More banging, more snaps of laughing groups all holding hands as I fumbled again for my own.
Warning. Red, more red. Warning. Rejected call. Warning.
I can’t see. I can’t see my feet, my hands, my nails, myself. Where was I?
Message seen, no reply. Warning, sinking. Get me out of here? Seen, no reply. Warning, warning, sinking. Reply? Warning.
Tell me I’m here. Get me out?
Warning. Find me!
Warning, warning, warning, sinking.
Seen, no reply, sinking, sinking, sinking.
Acceptance vanishing away with the light, with the singing.
Seen no reply, warning. Seen no reply, and now sunk,
Non-existence.
But the world is awake.
The world is dancing.
The world is singing.
the world is drinking, playing, joking, laughing.
the world is simply together. whereas I am not:
I am banished.
Featured image by Bernd Nies, Nies.ch.
