drifting outward in sleep.

DRIFTING OUTWARD IN SLEEP

The house stands close to midnight.

It is alone with its thoughts.

The thoughts are half-willed.

Drifting outward in sleep.

All we have left are our dreams.

He is with me; he is in me.

He is the man I do not know.

He is pain and he is sorrow.

Nothing without will or pain.

A light goes on in someone's house.

The motorcycle gets tossed in the gutter.

Someone's breath is moving so shrill.

The house is empty. Life is gone.

I'm finally ending myself. All the pain

will be gone, just words on a page,

it is raining, nothing left for me here,

nothing left for me to go on,

just me standing on the end of the world,

alone.

I drift in and out, the waves of the sea.

Whispering to me into the night.

He makes me lonely. I am no one without him.

My best friend who taught me to be alone,

the man who is full of pain.

Sorrow is like sorrow in night.

We are gone. We are not.

Words are wounded.