For coherent thoughts
my brain is a Bermuda triangle
that won’t release its secrets
without substantial offerings of sugared elixir
and eye resting,
which produce a fragile face mask
prone to shattering under strain.
Tag: tired
3am
It’s 3am and there’s a glow in the room –
or rather, there isn’t. Not tonight.
Tonight there are shadows, there are whispers,
hums through the house
bringing out the dust from the floorboards.
It’s the restlessness of emptiness,
the hours wondering when there will be movement,
when that glow will return
to lie beside you and sing slumber into your cells.
You wonder if you should catch it next time,
and propose it stay and watch over you
not for hours, but years
in return for you actively recharging
to hold back the dark.
After a meeting
My bones are rock, the act of talking
leeching the energy from my mind
even though I know I look completely comfortable.
I get home, in my own space;
that’s when it comes out. Materialises.
The heaviness. The weight.
I deaden, yet laugh maniacally
as it rains from my body.
I’m tired.
Cheer up, love
A sunflower head is placed over her mouth
Happiness and sunshine in a perfect little sparkling world
The petals fade, the seeds drop off one by one
but all they see still is what the flower was
The weary dried face
once so full of promise and vitality
now a mask for what she knows they want
End of day
Evening comes – no, midnight –
and the cogs are finally coloured to a shine,
placed inside the casing of my heart
as the rest of my body, weary
from the day’s high, erratic strings
winds down into standby mode.
Tick, whirr, beat.
Tick. Whirr. Beat.
Tick… whirr… beat…
They call
And now those cosy sheets
Patchworks of flannel and cotton
Flutter open to let you in
They say lie down and ease
Those shoulders of yours
Take refuge from the world
Do what needs doing. Go
To sleep
Treeshallow Musings 