Scene 22: Before Bed

The vacant caverns of the night
Single breaths to the light
Weightless hands and weightless arms
Dreaming of such nightly charms
Finding photos, rummaging through
Searching memories in light of you

The lonely breaths on linens white
Of witless prayers in the quiet
Silent solos of chapsticked lips
Heavy hearts and hope eclipsed
Empty eyes and clear space
Over lingering wafts and outlines traced




I've been trying to find something to talk about these past few days. There's just too much in the swirl of life that sometimes it's hard to tell what's shit and what's water. Unlike my metaphor, my life is not actually heading down the toilet. It's spinning around and I'm just dazed and confused as to what's happening.

I suppose I'll just let my poetry talk for me. Maybe then I can look back and figure this all out.