It Will Be Over Soon

A poem

The sound of the freight train in the distance Slams me back into my miserable existence My body is numb but my mind is racing I am not sure what part of me I am embracing

A voice asks me whether I agree I wonder if he can’t see that I’m free I broke out of the bonds half an hour ago And I don’t know what else I’ll have to undergo

He says he wants to explore my limits And counts my tolerance on his digits I make the third mistake in a row As I reveal my pain threshold and sink below

At this point I don’t care about what’s being done There is no fun and he has only just begun I can’t even care enough to make it stop I wonder if that’s what it feels like at the top

I should have lied or pretended to be in pain Now I am stuck here, unable to explain Neither to him nor to myself Why my consciousness is hiding up on the shelf

We’ve been in this room too long Technically nothing is wrong Our bodies illuminated by the light of the moon And he whispers “It will be over soon”