Work Text:
Do nothing, feel nothing
There is a price to pay for your inactivity
For your fascination with the macabre
For your vitriol towards speaking
Days will pass
Years will pass
In your hand, a needle and thread
You will have sewn
Your past, present, future
And when you encounter Atropos
When she peeks at you from behind your door
During one night
Another episode of sleep paralysis
(WHY DO I HAVE SLEEP PARALYSIS EVERY NIGHT?
STRESS, INSOMNIA, MEDICATION)
She will have shown you your work
Float to your bed-side
Hold a mirror up to your face
To your face, the face you’ve moved magnets over
On your refrigerator
You’ll see your reflection
Your mouth sewn shut
And she, the agent of the inevitable
Will shake her head no, no, no
Raise her scissors up, up, up
And give you back a mouth
Reward you with what you have been neglecting yourself
A scream
You will die
The way you were born
Screaming
The way you had always wanted
To live
Screaming
But instead you chose to do nothing, feel nothing
In a sad, premature death
Rotting in your bed
When you could have been
Screaming