3am Musings

A bed that sweats cold around you
Creatures scratching at every orifice of the darkened room
A roaring in the distance draws dragons and disaster in your head
Maybe one day you will laugh at this
and the hollows of your eyes will fade
to crescent moons in the pale of your face

Or maybe you will weep
Tear the hair from its fading bed
and clutch at times fabric
with salty chapped hands

Or perhaps you will get stuck
staring at a wall

Sometimes She Burns Me

Sometimes she is in your face
all the blazing color and heat
of a faraway star

Sometimes she burns too exuberantly
I warn her that she will soon fade
as I watch her
give all her heat away

Sometimes she is sleeping ash
pale and fragile and
I dare not disturb her
with a breath of gentle encouragement
lest her pieces scatter

Sometimes she is slow and black as mud
She reaches out like an ancient mammoth in a tar pit
I fear she may pull me into that thick suffocation with her

Sometimes she is next to me
Pale and childlike
needing my ear to steady her

Sometimes months pass of no consequence
I do not worry about her

Sometimes I miss being needed
and scold myself

Sometimes she speaks in rhyme and song
and her jokes go on just a little too long
Her eyes are too wide her lipstick too red
I fear being swallowed by that smile but
she dances just out of reach

Sometimes a shooting star crosses my path
and I wish for her eternal sun