Dropping down
to the darkest corner
of a big cardboard box
I sit and wait
with tireless eyes
transfixed on the hole at the top
Shining a square light
that stops at my feet
I'm not crazy
I can't hear or smell this thing
but I can feel it
right behind me
on the other side of a frail cardboard shell
Waiting.
It's out there
slowly circling the box
It's eyes never leaving the hole on top
just waiting for me to stick my head out
just a little bit
So it can snatch me up with its many arms
and pull my head out of my neck
with a squishy wet squeezing sound
But I won't stick my head out
Not even a digit my friend
soon you will give up and go back
to the recesses of nothing
from which you came
I will wait as long as it takes
My resilience will not fail
I will live another day
and find another box to crawl into.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem