Empty Doors

by Stephen Gearhart

Looking out clear windows,
Seeing flames in black and white.
No heat on my skin,
Just a breeze of coldness.

Cracking knuckles in satin sheets,
Slipping and sliding and helpless.
In and out of darkness,
Feeling lost in my feelings.

The hum vibrates around me,
A high-tension wire ready to break.
Bring out the light in the dark,
I'm drowning in a deep blue ocean.

Delicious, addictive air,
Leaving a murky taste.
Wandering empty halls,
Until I open the mahogany door.