A friend of mine wrote this poem after being mugged in New Cross. The poem explores the period of time after the incident, with the sense of prolonged invasion of space.
'long after the incident had finished and I was safe in my house I felt so much more scared than when it was actually going on. Thus I wrote this poem about the claustrophobic feeling of that fear'
This Poem Is Not About Caving
There's no point in opening my eyes.
The water, ankle level down here,
laps into my boots making my feet swell.
The walls inch toward my skin,
stone encasing me entirely.
Breath bounces back
off the walls in front.
The slim space far outweighs
any effect of touching;
pressing with absence.
My eyes might
even be open,
I just can't tell.
Andrew Parkes
Sunday, 10 January 2010
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