There are times when I'm afraid
to ask you questions I know the answers to;
afraid of the night rearing
it's heavy ***** as though it
were something I needed
not something I begged
for when I was at my lowest
(and would soon regret after)
There are days when you're
sound asleep; like a balloon
living on borrowed
oxygen
Laying on your side
your eyes flicker
on and off;
taking in the AM
particles, eyelashes
that sweep dreams
back and forth
back and forth
until the dusk
smothers you in
promising scenes
There are times when I am
grateful I get to hear your
voice at the end of the razor-wire
and wonder, (because
wondering brings me
back to a childlike
presence)
if it's really you
that I love and appreciate,
or if it's just a dream
that continues to blanket
me in it's infinite ardor.
Jan 3, 2017
Jan 3, 2017 at 2:02 AM UTC
There are times when I'm afraid
to ask you questions I know the answers to;
afraid of the night rearing
it's heavy ***** as though it
were something I needed
not something I begged
for when I was at my lowest
(and would soon regret after)
There are days when you're
sound asleep; like a balloon
living on borrowed
oxygen
Laying on your side
your eyes flicker
on and off;
taking in the AM
particles, eyelashes
that sweep dreams
back and forth
back and forth
until the dusk
smothers you in
promising scenes
There are times when I am
grateful I get to hear your
voice at the end of the razor-wire
and wonder, (because
wondering brings me
back to a childlike
presence)
if it's really you
that I love and appreciate,
or if it's just a dream
that continues to blanket
me in it's infinite ardor.
