i woke
to quickly decide
after hearing
the storms
to go back
to sleep again
but the alarm
had different ideas
so i stumbled
into the kitchen
to make coffee
and as the last
drops percolated
the universe
chuckled wryly
as the power
went out

so i sit
sipping coffee as
puncutations of
rumbling thunder
and streaks of
jagged lightning
provide the backdrop
for a fool who
longs to go back
to fucking bed
contemplating
building a raft
to float away
down the swollen
gutters amongst
the rest of the trash

all night i fell
into conversations
which i wish had
any semblance of
reality to them
besides in quieting
the demons growling
but i was never truly
important enough for
her to talk to while
we were both awake
and the sleep talks
only served to prove
i needed more closure
than months of silence
and brand new excuses
which really excused
none of the actions

the thunder crackles
as i sit staring out
lightning lighting
the living room on a
fool uncertain if this
is another dream where
i chase after things
which never wanted me
or a solemn intervention
from the universe
keeping me from those
recycled brain garbage
in the most beautiful
and unattainable hope