quick fire thoughts
like bullets in the night
refuse to let me be
and so i am condemned to my plight

made friends with the moon
and wave at the sun when she rises
the bruised sky outside my window
reminds me of the untouched pills my doctor advises

the problem with “unspoken understandings”-
words never said but meant to be known, is that sometimes
there is no understanding at all,
just hushed words
whispered into a telephone
with a muted receiver.