I've been lying awake
Floating in murky waters
Bobbing on the surface
Between dreams and consciousness
Dawn is still far, but I am alight
And the flames consume whatever was,
Whatever is, whatever will be
If I let it burn long enough
So I try to control
The wind in my hands
To blow it out, to sweep it clean
And maybe drift me off to sleep
Time is treading on thick mud
It's slowing more and more
Smearing me with even more dirt
Than I already have.
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts on the Train
PoetryAn hour in the morning. An hour at night. I take the train to and from work six days a week. Sometimes I read or watch videos on my phone to pass the time. Other times, when my mind grows quiet, words start stringing out of me like rabbits in a magi...
