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By wistful Date: 2004 Oct 25 Comment on this Work [[2004.10.25.04.20.16443]] |
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One a.m. again. Too tired to move Too wakeful to sleep Paralyzed by desire for rest And in this stillness My mind races unchecked In the day, there are distractions Things to do, things to avoid But here, but now, there is Nothing, Nothing to prevent my mind from spinning Back to the echoes of what was. My midnight memories are poor mirrors They color the past to suit my whim And here my knight is ever faithful, Steadfast and present Now he is all possibility And I am all regret. How is it I can so easily acknowledge That this is but a strange past-present dream Based in wishes, not in fact But still not *know* it? How can I end this struggle Between what will never be (and never was) With my nomadic idyllic flights In the hush of darkest night? Blue and warm, red and dark... Technicolor "should have been"s Haunt my restless soul. Screaming for relief Till morning comes, and then With bone aching, head pounding weariness I pass through another day In dread anticipation Of another sleepless night. |