Monday, November 7, 2011

I coughed so hard I gave myself a black eye.
Trading blows with a sickness, a one-sided fight that I can't win.
With each deep reach into my lungs, I'm struck in the gut,
Air violently passing from my body. Fights like these
Happen daily, and every morning I wake up from being laid out
The night before. Often my hair is askew, each errand tendril reaching,
Stretching out, grasping at a new day; I have to wet it down with reality.
In my feverish delirium I often dream of life uninhibited;
Taking action I would not take while awake, speaking words
That these lips would never utter, and stoking a fire containing flames
That would surely burn if I got too close. Dreams of horror and fantasy;
Genres in which, my imagination is well versed. Lately,
These sleeping hallucinations are a bridge on which we meet.
Lovers reunited, reconciled, embracing passionately over now calm
Water. The tender moment beaten to a pulp long through
The start of the alarm bells ringing, I stir in the first stabs of sunlight,
Rolling over to my disappointment, to find my bed empty
Under an arm reaching for warmth. 

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