Friday, September 18, 2009


nothing good 
can come of this hour, 
this no man's land, 
a morning that 
mimics night. my 
thoughts in this 
tense present time 
are not made for 
sunshine. my stamina 
argues with my obligations, 
but i've no sense 
of who's won, no sense 
of what i speak. i desire 
nothing more than 
senseless sleep.

No comments:

Post a Comment