Nightlight

I just want to dream a little more, before the sun dries up this stream of thought; before my tongue begins to search for words faded by the choke of night. The sky screams in the hands of a harsh turn, neither of us wants our darkness unveiled. Yet, I wish the light would swallow me up as well. Instead, the broken slumber of day creeps into my bed, and shakes my tomb. I watch it stumble through the blinds, sloshing, lazily polished, and promising. Like it always does. And I try my damnedest to pull my eyes away from the hope that is stitched to my shadow, but no matter how hard I writhe in this place, I cannot escape the artificiality of this world that I can’t seem to wake up from. -James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.