PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

My brain whirs when the sun goes off

and isn’t it funny

that I have always been nocturnal even when I am asleep

the loner the

lover the

one to grow at night alone

the one to build arches that stretch

toward the hibernating sun

and build nests scattered with moonlight

you will never fit into

Isn’t it funny

the only time I think of you is in bed

when that’s the last place you wanted to be

The stars think I am attuned to you

and the way time is shoved down my throat here

When I think about it I can swallow it,

a spoonful of earthquake shivering down my spine

until it becomes a part of me

I walk through the almost-fire,

the heat that chases me until I look right at it

and under these swollen memories I step

and I forget you.

somehow

I forget.