Shh, I have been waiting long hours,
under an emerging sky full of stories,
waiting for you to close your eyes and crawl through this red room,

crawl through while feeling your bent body’s weird weight as a tingling pressure upon your weak wrists,

crawl through with a switchblade clenched
     between yellowed teeth,
          stained by tea and lemon crumpets,
          stained by the yellow blood of the Sun,
          stained by the stains
               of the yellow room
     you crawled through
in your yellow youth

Shh, Shh, I have been waiting such long hours,
          such long and winding hours,
          like a patient waiting for a diagnosis,

just like a patient
waiting for a death note,
          hyper-aware
of every living, pulsing thing.