white noise
there was a monster in my dream
and one note of a song
which i sang
wrong.
i don't feel
as though i feel
there is a blanket
beneath which i rest my wings
and a mattress
upon which i sleepingly dread
the day ahead.
i think about blinding myself
i think about
the sky and the bangles of stars
it wears whilst
i was in that glorified moment
of a drunken mind,
i think about choking that third lung which drowned me
with embers and ash and sour smoke,
i think about what good
it would do
to return blank
as a clean slate.
the water was cold and i was stifled
my wrists frozen
lost sense of function;
celeste is whinnying, awaiting her wandering fellow
might she jump-
please please no,
i can hear her calling
just please don't
(18th May 2014)
YOU ARE READING
Blue Moon
Poetry"Still she haunts me, phantomwise, Alice moving under skies Never seen by waking eyes." - Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There (2012 - 2014)
