Motel Room
The impossible-to-wash-out blood stains on the off-white sheets,
People have lied here before.
Fluorescent lighting highlights the corners of the room.
Flicker, one, two, flicker.
I try to blink every time the light disappears,
So that the darkness is only the back of my eyelids.
But the flickering varies,
And the light is never constant.
Written 10/23/16 at a motel in Southern Utah.
