The sunset shadows creep in just to scratch the floorboards
for a moment,
Its neglected fingernails digging into the backs of
The insomniacs
The moonlight lapping at their eyelids.
Night is never rest for all, anxiety a traveling ghost
Wailing into their shoulders
Unhinging the doorframes
Picking up phantoms of
Conversation pieces,
Hurling them into the faces of these
Timid werewolves.
Sirens of sleep deprivation
Lure their tired corpses into taking
Just a few more staggered breaths
Unknowing if they trusted their skin enough
Not to devour each other.
Tonight is another
choreographed
breakdown
As one is
Seizing on the floor of the food-mart
Another is
Shaking underneath of an overpass
A third
Is found licking the tabletops in a foreign dining room
Two
Steal the blood of the person
They only claimed to touch
When the world was awake
And
As sunlight bleeds onto the
Flesh of their shoulder blades
They sleep walk home and wake up
To have their morning cereal with black coffee
The mundane taste of the universe
They are allowed
That is until the light escapes
The cracks in the walls again
And the creatures find their silhouettes
For one last
dance
YOU ARE READING
Breakable Contents
Ficção AdolescenteCollection of poetry and short narratives I've written so far, some of it is simply class assignments while others are older, published works. All of them were written of experiences personally affecting me; nothing artificial! Thanks for reading- y...
