I fell asleep outside,
on Lisa’s windy, 50th floor terrace.
It was indulgent, sensual
and lethargic - it crushed.
I forgot the time.
The sunset was intense,
a violent shock of color,
like an existential smack in the face.
I felt a lot of joy.
I’m feeling optimistic.
We leave for New Haven tomorrow.
I believe in the future.

Leeza popped her head out of the glass doors,
she was wearing a small, pale, skin bikini,
“Wanna go to the (indoor basement) pool?”
I stretched like a cat, “Sure,” I purred.
.
.
a song for this:
Hit My Heart by BOY
Relax by Vacations

8.21.2pm

its these winter mornings
where any thought
of greeting
the dawning day
with warm thoughts
hopeful exuberance
and a positive outlook
will quickly be silenced
along with
the birdsong of
that overly optimistic alarm
that melody
so carefully selected
to ease consciousness
into a brightened state
of motivation
of joy
despised within seconds
immediately cut short
and resented for
its mindless persistence

the first excuse
a need for another
ten minutes
of warmth and comfort
to prepare
for the day
for life in general
perhaps
the second
a negotiated concession
that there was
no real reason
to get up
early anyway
finally
uncertain whether
in victory
   or defeat
the alarm will be
cancelled completely
along with the rest
of the day

Buzz of a laughter
Feedback numb
Nothing no more
Just echoes in my ears

Blue sky looked on by
Macabre eyes
The visit passed the limit
She sliced off my

Heartfelt loneliness
Skeptical angels
With their cynical remarks
Trying to get me to feel

Something I don't know what
It is a chip of a bird
That I once quieted for
It is a word of a lover

Who must still love me so
But there is a churning in me
A swirling spiral of nothingness
I hear my time is up

Doors in my mind
A lethargic breeze
Shutting them closed

Your knocks
Interrupting my monologue
Of solitude

Please go away.
I can't, I can't.
"Stay."

Keep knocking down my words
Keep reminding me of my world
Keep making me want to

Go outside
and
Face you

sadness that sweeps the eyelids
into a lead-heavy lethargy,
an awake weariness that
flicks through every bad thought
and pulls me from sleep;
like heavy curtains being dragged
across the threshold of
my vision - where all conscious
thought is a bleeding burden.
i just lie here waiting;
waiting for what? i do not know.
all i know is that i
cannot sleep.

I’m only myself
When I’m depressed
Evaporating
Into nothingness

Out of this world
Just a cloud looking down
Exasperated
Lost in my own town

It's been a long day.
Not as a day that's been filled with worries, but as a day filled with fake smiles
plastered together in shallow swathes.
It's been a long, long day
Even if I feel like this, at least I'm fine
If I take a sip of coffee, the coffee's cold
If I reach out, will you embrace me?
To be honest, I'm not sure what I'm reaching for.
The day's cold and the coffee's gone, so I'll leave you with this

The shadow of a tree's leaves in the sunlight is warm and gold
full where it should be empty
and open as a healing wound

Man of greed and narrow thought whose power holds the lands.
By cash alone you compel us all to follow your commands.

And willingly for our own needs we see your world as true.
Bought blindness to dictate our days on a course that profits you.

We close our eyes to the carnage and the killing that you call right.
And we pray for something better than greed and a show of might.

In our hearts we know your motive and the wrongs that you do.
And hope that there is some way we will not need to follow you.

You do not pause to think that you could ever be in the wrong.
And through your reins of power you drag us right along.

I see the world rebelling as by fire nature strikes us back.
With those you opposed, in the news, telling of your foolish attack.

Fear of what you lose compels you to fight change at all cost.
And because we do no better we will all eventually be lost.

Many of us have forgotten the simple things that we were taught.
Such as trust, morality and right are things that can not be bought.

The world when it is sane will come to hate your very name.
But by lethargy and greed the next chosen, sure to be just the same.

I miss myself.
She was good, and kind, and
Purposeful.
She was not a train speeding along on a track,
Wind whistling by,
Eyes watering and half closed.
She walked alongside it,
Marveling at the cars
Passing by.

Now, she is reduced to
The lethargy that creeps into her veins
And ties her to the car.

Today,
I am a
cadaver-in-waiting.
Cold, stiff and
ashen, I am
ready for
autopsy and entropy.