Today I’ve adapted two stanzas of my poem entitled “I woke up in a box”.
If you’ve been reading these everyday, then thanks . If you haven’t, you can click on the links below to catch up on parts 1-7.
When I woke, my joy at reaching day five was short-lived. I stood and faced the fire that engulfed an entire wall. The broken pieces of the box still lay on the ground. I twisted my neck, looking for a way out. If the wall was on fire then I needed to get out. There wasn’t a door or any windows though. I took a step towards the fire, realising the wall wasn’t actually on fire. There was no wall. The fire wasn’t out of control, it was just there.
I heard sounds from inside the flames. Screams, I realised and I wondered if it was hell. The words of a country song returned to me. Something about keep going and the devil might never know I was there. Could I run fast enough to make it to the other side? Was there a way out of hell? Did I really want to go inside the flames? The questions danced around my mind.
I looked back at the box. It was whole again. I could get back inside, but I had escaped. I realised I couldn’t go back. Hell would be bad, I was sure of it, but it seemed like my only chance of making it to somewhere else. I held out my hand towards the flames. My skin sizzled, but something told me I wouldn’t die, at least not yet. I took a leap inside, deciding it was better to get it over with.
Day five, at last
But disappointment stabs at me
I’m stood the gates of hell
I look back at the box
And see it’s not even damaged
Day six, after much debate
Whether to climb back into my box
Or go forward into hell
I step forward and hope it leads
Somewhere better than either option
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