Orion is staring
and there are strangers’ eyes in the back of my skull
sending hornet stings down my neck and shoulders
Dark lumps of clothes in the corner of my room are
shifting slightly
and a jumbled sentence from a mouth I don’t recognise
is telling me that
something awful is coming
I need to be up soon
and I’ll wake with stuck together eyelashes and swollen
tear-stained lids, but confident in the light of the morning
that all of the feelings of the night before was just
down to that,
the night
And then night will come again
and I’ll reduce back to the snivelling heap
that wrote this in the first place at 4:13am
About the Creator
Megan FitzGerald
I am an aspiring travel writer from the sunny UK. Whilst I love journalism, I also create poetry and fiction.
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