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.
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