It is in the a.m
And I am alive
I am breathing
(cigarette smoke)
awake and dreaming.
Writing, scheming words
And drawings pictures
In my mind.
Bleeding fears
Slowly,
ink stained
Onto the page.
Dark, crisp and early morning
There is no warning for the
Nightmares that wake me
Shake me
Take me from the
waist deep and pulling
From below.
Fears bestowed
Cryptic Stitches sewn
Little black dots
That stretch
Blood stained
Engrained
From his spirit to his soul.
They take him whole
And tear pieces
From each night
Fright followed
Closely by the respite of
Eyes open
Short breath
And a memory prone
To fading.