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| The Tower by Rebecca Bashly |
Wash away my thoughts, my fears.
Wash away the dark, the invading dark, while I sit here peacefully waiting for
the moment. And the water is dark like my heart and it looks strong like I do,
a stream of power flowing through my body. Wash away my past, my life, and my
pain. Wash it all away, the dark, the invading dark. I stare at the camera,
waiting for the motion, that insignificant click that triggers the nightmare
that takes me away from myself. And I know what comes next, an apparent
normalcy in a twisted place. A voice, so distant, commands me to start. I
struggle to stay away. Closer, the voice sounds annoyed, aggravated. “We are
wasting money, come on.” I give up. “Stretch yourself, we can’t see anything…
It looks like it’s the first time you do this.” And it is. Each time I do it,
it’s the first time, and the last. Tomorrow, it’ll be the first and the last
time too, and I count the tiles on the wall while my body is invaded by the
camera and by men...
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