i dread
going to bed
unsure if
insomniac knot
twisting or
those painful
slivers of
insidious dream
blossoms in
half remembered
smiles sharper
than any blade
await me

a day spent
exhausted or one
spent aching
longing to have
been enough for
a happily ever after
after one too many
near misses has left
me gunshy and quite
contentedly unwilling
to let a few dreams
bamboo slivers slid
slowly into my now
vented ventricle
do more than slowly
bleed me out in
technicolor sonnets

i cannot tell
if i am the poet
doomed to dwell
in the shadows
a beggar unfit
for more than scraps
or a character in
the complex ballet
of conflicting waves
with no more substance
than these smears
grotesquely staining
the cheeks of beauty
broken filaments
flashing in the æther