PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Radiating thoughts of candle sticks lit up in the night
When your smile would surprise even the most backward eyes
You toss and turn in your sleep
While I stare at the ceiling.

And I'm thinking, "What if there really wasn't any Andy?
He was all in my head, "I wonder if.. and.."
If his death was my own,
And I've been dead all this time,
Is this a hell of some sort
Where I've become some young stranger;
Out of place, out of time, a mental mess?
Then I tell myself
To get a grip.
I close my eyes and fade away.