In the morning my bed is crowded now. There is no room for me beside the spaces people left. I get evicted to the shower.
Foggy demons enter through the open bathroom window. They come to feed on my warmth, to suck every liquid drop from my naked body.
As their chill hits my skin I can feel them breaking me on the inside. Another cold is sure to grip me, but I don’t flinch. I want to test my strength. Come on, body, fight back!
The least I can do is take on myself and put all the rage to use. Maybe then I can shatter the invisible walls you say I build.
Always at arm’s length. The illusion of closeness carrying me safely across the waters. Grab my ankles, make me drown!
And, oh, of course, the rain of the ages! Never a day too late. My blackboard finally showing the solution, the crying sky rebels and washes the slate clean. The fleeting moment of clarity between vodka and vagary drenched in the common sea of ill-advised white lies.
I glimmer in the dark of night. You cannot meet me in the daytime. If all the days were made of night, I would be somewhere by now.
I kneel at the mess that I’ve made of the strings I attached to strangers’ hands. Some tethered and torn, most tangled and worn, I cry for the chances I’ve lost.
I take a leap of faith and crack my skull open on your shell. Now my mind is bleeding all over your freshly swept floor and sticks to the soles of your shoes. So at least you take something of me with you when you leave.
“We're all souls just trying to connect with someone, but we're all left searching on our own.”
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