After the High

these fingers want to click out the words that accurately emphasize the magnitude of the sudden suffering i feel a deep melancholy that sprang at me out of the dark beyond my velveteen bed but these fingers can't seem to do this feeling justice i feel heavy laden down with the weight of too many bad nights and the terror previously felt never quite fades its light never completely goes out as it burns this hole in my pocket these memories are painful as if that flame had touched my fingertip and the reflex to pull away is strong matched though by the urge to hold still and see what fire can do i want to shut eyes in sleep but cannot seem to resign myself to leaving this particular emptiness for another just yet for emptiness is what this feels like a gaping hole it seems i’ve been able to avoid where no one seems to fit and no one cares too hard to try i’ve rebuilt and rebuilt myself every time another wing of the house falls but it always seems as if by the time i’ve driven the last nail in another wall has collapsed taking a piece of my mind with it so there are always gaping holes in my consciousness places where something i’ve lost or not yet found is supposed to be and i can’t seem to find anything else that will do at least for a little while only sometimes does this feeling surface leading me to think to hope that this is only another figment of my imagination it is so real it feels so settled deep in my chest worming its way through my head soon it could take over my entire being making me one big hole a vast shell of nothing unless i don’t let it but how to stop nothing how am i supposed to throw out of my head something that doesn’t exist has no tangible evidence that it is here and can only be identified by listening closely to the gravity and leaden quality of the sweet lilting voice that flows from these bitten lips i will fall tonight into a sleep as if into an abyss hoping that when i land in wakefulness this will be gone again the hole will go back into hiding and i'll be able to enjoy any measure of pensivity to my secretly broken heart's content