Dec 2020
Morning glides its sticky honey hands
through your window
dances across your closed eyelids
Born into the sunlight that
Burns into you and
Pulls up your glazed eyes,
Pushes you back into your nightmare
through your window
dances across your closed eyelids
Born into the sunlight that
Burns into you and
Pulls up your glazed eyes,
Pushes you back into your nightmare
sleeping is so elusive but at least it's peaceful
