PARALYTIC

Sometimes it just happens.
Seems like a good idea at the time.
I'm sure you get the picture:
It's been a bad day -
one of the worst,
and you've had it with everyone,
everything.
So you decide to go out,
to forget.
Here, there are a myriad of diversions
in multi-coloured cylindrical forms
that seem to say,
'We can make you feel good!'
And that's all it takes
today.
So you succumb, all too easily,
to that exhilarating transition
into an alien world;
where walls are alive,
floors undulate and ripple.
And it's funny.
So funny.
You stumble.
Concerned faces loom over you.
Picasso-like,
their absurdity provokes
paroxysms of giggling.
You have to get out.
You need some air.

Streetlamps.
Golden globes that float
in a black Universe.
Dancing, swirling.
Mesmerising.
Trying to catch one
in your hands, but
the sidewalk tilts
forty-five degrees and splat,
you're flat on your face.
There's no pain, but there's blood.
A lot of blood.
It's dripping onto your hands,
making pretty patterns.
You stare at it,
detached, without wondering why or how.
It just is.

Iron railings
become a crutch.
You're on your feet
and begin staggering off
in what you hope
is the direction of home.
A car parked in the street.
Catching sight of your reflection
in a side window as you pass.
'Carrie', the movie,
comes to mind.
Your laughter dies.
You feel suddenly sick.
You lean against a wall for support,
only to slither back down
onto the pavement.
Cheekbones and nose are beginning
to seriously hurt.
Fumbling through contents
of your bag
for something to numb the pain.
A vodka bottle comes to hand.
You try to line it up with your lips,
but that hand seems to be a separate entity
that you have no control over.
Heavy glass bashes against tooth enamel,
knocking your head back against red bricks.
A pointless exercise anyway
because the bottle is empty.
But the beautiful red patterns
your hands make
on the smooth glass
remind you of
a Turkish Delight sunset.
And you smile,
for the realisation dawns
that you, too, are a part of this miracle;
just as it is a part of you.
And today no longer matters.