Who will be there when the light goes out? 

By: Rose Cervantes 

 

I am used to dread 

snakes coiled up in my bed sheets.

How many times can I shed this skin 

before my skin cells get tired of everlasting sadness?

Who will find me sleeping if I’ve smashed all the lightbulbs?

If you find me still, don’t worry

the snakes don’t bite in their own home.

I am anti venom 

For strangers turned friends.

I am Venus 

For friends turned lovers.

I am Medusa’s long lost sister 

sitting on the edge of a Boulder 

and a dark place.

Light my hair on fire 

and I will burn for 27 days 

and not a day longer.

I am used to dread 

Loves little brother. 

I was the little sister 

setting myself on fire every family dinner.

A flame sent to keep them warm.

They told me my heart was a lantern 

I swallowed oil and scales sprouted.

I am choking on light and lonely. 

Molting is something I watched my mother do

Privately.

I don’t fear dying alone in the dark.

I fear my family will freeze in Antarctica.

My lantern is still beating

and I am used to dread. 

Soon I will run out of skin or maybe it will be oil. 

They should have told me I was a snake

at least I would be able to see in the dark. 

​

​

*Published in Neptune Poetry Magainze. St Pete, FL. Oct 2021

​