Daily missive for Friday the 16th of January. Alone, In the dark, Spread-eagled. The barely visible, A barren plateau. Heavy limbed, And too tired. Movement restricted, As if by ligatures, Tightened Over goose flesh, Threshed to a standstill. Garbage, Dumped, At the edge Of a landfill. Nothing moves, The only sound Is city slumber, Like a distant drum. A night of souls, A world away, Sleeping their own Lives. Living their own dreams In different rooms. Behind closed doors. Off shadowed halls. Their is no start To waking. It just appears, And the space It leaves, Feels like a Yawning chasm, You are poised To fall into. As a pale pool, Of sickly light, Spills over To the bed, From the window sill, Crushing the marrow From your bones, Leaving you breathless, Bloodless. What a way To welcome the day.
Posted on: Fri, 16 Jan 2015 09:14:15 +0000
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