Short Fictions, Thrills And Wonders

Midnight thoughts part 2

Picking up the signals in my brain

So far yet so close to me

Trying get closer to my head

So near yet so frustrating

I know what I should be trying to do

Not going to be sore

Not trying to be God

So far

Yet so close

So beautiful

Yet so deformed

So near

Yet so not

So real

Yet so raw

I can

Taste the apple you're holding

To my lips

I can bite the clouds

Without my tongue tasting

I can feel the sky

By making myself bleed with those knives

I can see the sun

Without trying to reach up high

It's too late

All too late

Way too safe

So cliché

Now that all it takes

Is a press of a button

To send your raves

To the butcher that sells only mutton

But does it matter

That all that you've mutter

Under the sheets on a midnight rant

Was made to poetry in that one-night stand

I can taste the cherry

That you're holding

Close to my teeth

I can bite the mists

With my tongue tasting nothing

I can feel the rhymes

Making me a bed with all those knives

I can reach the sun

Without trying to jump too high

Like a roulette

Sinking in to the sand

Wishing that I'm not there

To say

My midnight rant