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in the morning to wake to the dissatisfaction the kind that only sleep envelops to stir to stir and wander into long halls of a million doorways in one: a simple smile another, painted earthenware and a child's laughter a third: needles before euphoria and neurotransmitters pouring out into blackness the next: a single blank page and a sigh echoing out of eternity the doors stretch farther than I can see contain more than I can bear cigarette ashes, beloved footsteps fading away, a thousand different accidents with a thousand different grief-ends, a foreign home, one white bird in a flock of black, tie dyed bed clothes, a foggy road, a scientific discovery, a one-night stand with an unforgettable face, a creaking porch screen door, lost pets, piles of bills, purple lightening, long hair, a fathers tears, a city of bare concrete and rain, a moment beside a wood stove, a lost job, a yellow poppy on a green hill, a bottle of whiskey, a tarantula behind the toilet, a convenience store on a special block's corner, **** last messages, pill boxes, promotion, a long exam, a homeless man, in one a wedding, in another; divorce papers hospital rooms, persian rugs, leaking rooftops, eye contact some doors locked with years lost some with no turning back oh sometimes I can reach the very last **** to touch for a moment the room with death itself but I wander still for there are many more wander whispering prayers no guide but a burning light, following always the center of being
0
Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 7:59 PM UTC
the heel of atlas
in the morning to wake to the dissatisfaction the kind that only sleep envelops to stir to stir and wander into long halls of a million doorways in one: a simple smile another, painted earthenware and a child's laughter a third: needles before euphoria and neurotransmitters pouring out into blackness the next: a single blank page and a sigh echoing out of eternity the doors stretch farther than I can see contain more than I can bear cigarette ashes, beloved footsteps fading away, a thousand different accidents with a thousand different grief-ends, a foreign home, one white bird in a flock of black, tie dyed bed clothes, a foggy road, a scientific discovery, a one-night stand with an unforgettable face, a creaking porch screen door, lost pets, piles of bills, purple lightening, long hair, a fathers tears, a city of bare concrete and rain, a moment beside a wood stove, a lost job, a yellow poppy on a green hill, a bottle of whiskey, a tarantula behind the toilet, a convenience store on a special block's corner, **** last messages, pill boxes, promotion, a long exam, a homeless man, in one a wedding, in another; divorce papers hospital rooms, persian rugs, leaking rooftops, eye contact some doors locked with years lost some with no turning back oh sometimes I can reach the very last **** to touch for a moment the room with death itself but I wander still for there are many more wander whispering prayers no guide but a burning light, following always the center of being
lee-turpin
Written by
English
Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 7:59 PM UTC
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