Open doors

Through open doors the light busts in, begins
Its search for me and him, as if I
Do not know my sin, I crouch and hide my face.

Across the room, a ray of dust, I feel the chill and know
I must – in some way – shut the cursed things,
Before I catch the cold.

A voice outside its children calls, for supper now, as it is late
Already, if I close the doors –
The voices will be gone.

My hell will not be dark and hot, my heaven not be filled with light
This fright, which I cannot escape
Can I not shut it out?

He was here.

These open wounds, these bleeding holes,
Through which my sanity elopes, please,
Mother, let me close the doors
Before the cold can catch me.