the ice coffee
I snuck in
late  this afternoon
red wine
I drank
with a robust
spaghetti sauce
not until
it was time to sleep
my eyes regretted
not being able to close
mind riddled and running wild
with unlaid plans
fanciful schemes
memories mostly hidden
from daylight
revelations leap
out from the dark
shadows
with every toss and turn
grudges
lain bare
with my uncovered legs
my only hope of absolution
remains in the desperate hope
to exhaustedly
dissolve  into dreamscapes
where regrets are simply keys
to opening
doorways
to subconscious delusions
that  make
some sort of sense
there
because
you tell them to