Archaic

i lie sleepless in my bed. at a time when sleep should have come hours ago. my mind circling around a single thought, a single person that i wish to remember.

with slight hesitating i get up and re-awaken my computer from its own slumber. as if jealous that i cannot sleep so easily. i sit as it wipes the crust out of its eyes and i think.

motionless as a thought process begins to unravel. can i bring myself to accomplish what it is i set out to do; write about a missed one, someone who i wish to see once more? spiraling, twisting, turning, falling.

there it is. the answer. awaiting me. and i can breathe yet again. i don't miss him anymore.

Choking on Thrown Stones

I lay awake at night

pondering aimlessly in my bed

as I allow the music fill my ears

and await for a nightly visitation

from the man who keeps the sand

time passes and I lay awake

holding restless aches within

venturing as to where I may find

a glass of water to soothe my mind

returning to my scene of slumber

upon my bed an imp sits in wait

staring through me before upon me

it smirks and nods as to giving a gesture

one that shall suggest my bed lay empty

as to follow its benign nature

it preforms in an act of vanishment

the hour upon this night in which I wake

seems to have become too late

closing of eyes to ponder once more

for the coming of nightly tomorrow

it may lay in wait yet again

grief stricken

Tapping upon translucent glass as if none had seen it. Vibrations disturb the hands that hold so much responsibility yet cannot hold anything at all. Moments flickering, stopping, starting, then jumping to as where they do not belong, creating a sensation of dismay.

Tapping on the glass and moments pause, skip ahead and become lost, rewriting history as if never to have happened upon Earthly ground. Shattered thoughts, robbed from those who once dreamed of such delights.

Tapping on the glass and the memories fade, become lost and never to have happened.