poetry for the poetic: 5

CXLVIII

<insomniac's diary: urge>

i've been watching

seismic events, breaking down
the earth opened in my front yard
miles down i saw tendrils of dark
and i swallowed the needles I wanted to
stick into my skin.

i've got a buzzing somewhere
under my ears, deep in my throat.
all I have is plans, scratched
into my palms, my arms, my stomach.

i wanted the ocean;
deep open moonlight
light skittering across my cheeks
wind spinning me into nothing.