The world is so lonely
when no one is awake
Me and the window
And the words I leave
On the sill,
Hoping the wind will
sneak in and sneak out
The midnight burglary
Of all my confessions
The emotions only the
Mirror can see and
Only the moon can hear,
Anything to feel witnessed
With no witnesses
The pillow that reads
“Here lies…”
And the duvet that
I tuck like a tomb
Around my body
The formation of a
Blanket cave,
Swallowing my
Being into some
Sweaty chrysalis
Of sleepy viscous
Goo, awaiting
A restful eclosion
That never comes
The sudden twist
In those pre-dream
Scenarios, where
The darkness of
The room seeps
Through the thin
Skin of my eyelids
The interpretive dance
On my dilapidated
Mattress before I
Reach the final stage
And sit up like some
Resuscitated mummy,
Somnambulant without
The somn
I return to my window,
Listening to the robins
And the wrens rise
With the dawn and
Respond to my restless
Rambles
The inky pockets beneath
My sockets grows with
My sleeper’s debt
Then comes the tragedy
Of the mistimed kiss
Between the opening
Of the blinds and the
Closing of my eyes.
A new night is born
With the yawn of my
Awakening, some crazed
Creature is itching to
Escape under this moon,
To howl to someone
Who can hear it…
God, the world is so lonely
When no one is awake.
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