i seem to sleep
in fits of angry silence
waking confused
to the sounds of
fellow transitive states
having declared
my intentions to
a fitful universe
that doesn’t want
any of my attention
i sit staring at the
ever encroaching sun
losing myself in
the shadows it creates

every fiber of the
uncomfortable pillow
has heard my plaintive
whispers of love
as i toss and turn
with a head full of you
a lonely hearted soliloquy
whispered as sleep
trails through grasping hands
like dreamdander before
a rusted thresher

another fitful night
spent far from anything
that truly matters
hollowbones creaking
as ligaments tear
tracing the scars
in the shape of lips
puckered along my ribs

i miss the birds
the sense of life gone
in this concrete slab
of inflicted miseries
i dream of you
while wide awake
wondering why sleep
teases my aching soul
all of the words gone
unheard as my head pounds
and fleeting snatches
of poetry unwritten
flash lavender trails
my unfocused eyes
cannot quite follow

i count the seconds
knowing they are as
bereft of value
as the supple sins
that encase our minds
i measure the inches
between your heart
and my incomprehensible need
unable to sleep
whispering my love
to dispel the dread
that dogs my every step
packing my bags
in preparation for
a long drive from
one deathly solitude
to a prison of my own design

i am emptied out
rung dry
a raisin left
to rot on the vine
desperate for an infusion
to make this leathered
skin of hope
pliable in the face of
regurgitated sorrow