the ice coffee
 I snuck in 
late  this afternoon
 red wine 
I drank
 with a robust 
spaghetti sauce
not until 
it was time to sleep
my eyes regretted 
not being able to close
mind riddled and running wild 
 with unlaid plans
fanciful schemes 
memories mostly hidden
 from daylight
revelations leap
out from the dark
shadows 
with every toss and turn
 grudges 
lain bare 
with my uncovered legs
my only hope of absolution 
remains in the desperate hope 
to exhaustedly 
 dissolve  into dreamscapes
where regrets are simply keys
 to opening 
doorways 
to subconscious delusions 
that  make
 some sort of sense
 there 
because 
you tell them to