MyTV

 The static fades from the screen,
“Like a short term lover,
Gathering up her things.”
And I’m caught watching:
Outward-angled,
Searching for a moment to latch onto,
A mirror-memory, silver with luck.
Hoping for a chance to reflect.
The amtrack of the noxious, amorous, envious, ingenuous simulacrums screeches by,
A pause but not an interruption:
Anticipated.
The second yet to be come to life,
Born of fear;
Fear fermented from futility.
Gaseous remnants interrupt concentration constantly,
Sulfury damnation seeping skyward with every step.
Night falls; broken.
Fleeting promise fades in flight from grasp,
Leaving me alone and thirsty in a desert:
Digging for a forgotten treasure under a new moon.
My pockets empty of excuses or explanations,
I walk towards exhaustion:
A physical fail-safe for fear-of-will,
My favorite lullaby.
Caressing my worries into not carelessness,
But careless-ness.
Day comes; breaking.
Scorching the earth beneath me,
Shaking me from my dream-made ladder.
Falling from the balcony of my own room,
Through the fuzzy snow into not consciousness,
but awakeness.
The static fades from the screen,
“Like a short term lover,
Gathering up her things.”

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