Sunday, September 25, 2011

My own devices

This night is restless
The television is not able to remove me
From the uneasiness of my mind
With only a small handful of stars
To keep me company
I draw pictures in the negative space of things
Awaiting patiently yet again for the shift.
The pathways are converging
Always bringing with them change and decisions to be made
My back is aching from inadequate sleep
Knowing better than to fall in and out of dreams
In places where a deep sleep can never be found
This night is restless
It brings with it depth of thought that should never occur on a Sunday
Silent rooms amplified by the white noise of a fan
Buzzing worries around my brain
A centrifuge of my hopes and dreams confused
Into emotional indigestion.
I would crawl into my bed and pull the blanket of my childhood
Over my head but I cannot be left to my own devices tonight

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