We are edging toward
the crest of December-
it looms, unforgivingly
over the horizon.
My mind is filled
with thick paints
and heavy smoke.
You stand askance
like some forgotten
silhouette,
begging for reprieve
in the waning moon glow.
I drink a little more,
and create tangible feelings
on tepid surfaces-
working like a madman
to keep the wolves at bay.
And I care about you
a little bit less
every day.
Nov 27, 2016
Nov 27, 2016 at 11:13 PM UTC
We are edging toward
the crest of December-
it looms, unforgivingly
over the horizon.
My mind is filled
with thick paints
and heavy smoke.
You stand askance
like some forgotten
silhouette,
begging for reprieve
in the waning moon glow.
I drink a little more,
and create tangible feelings
on tepid surfaces-
working like a madman
to keep the wolves at bay.
And I care about you
a little bit less
every day.
