Alone in a one room shed.
The grey wood floors match the grey wood walls.
Monotony and dim light.
There are no doors,
only a window.
My hands on the glass.
No one can see me.
No one can save me.
I watch them in the garden.
Lush, green, biodiverse.
My friends, living, laughing, loving,
smiling as their children play amongst the rich foliage,
gathered around a warm redwood table,
littered with rich delicacies,
cheeses, deserts, salads, meats, wine, and cocktails,
eating and drinking,
I see past and present,
my former self, sitting on a man’s lap.
I’m laughing and telling stories.
I’m the center of the party.
My hair is long and glistens in the sunlight.
My skin is soft, and my eyes sparkle.
The emotional pain is physical,
as I watch the woman I was,
the women I can no longer muster.
Alone in a grey shed, there is no escape when your captor lives inside you.
Abducted by cancer.
Exhausted I wait.
Will I ever rejoin the party?