Poem
j. dyson
morning comes,
carrying with it,
the collapse of
veins.
howls the wind at windows,
dreamy phantoms so fearsome,
terrified me,
plunging.
down to the depths of
safety scented sheets
a fury within fooled
eyes.
in collaboration with stars,
it rattles the house,
locks the door with a
scream.
blaming me
profane.
then lamenting like those
drowned.
words painted on a cheap canvas, so
chilling.
colors run in a marathon of
misunderstanding.
a hated figure am i...
locked in stocks
to be forever out of
context.
eternal wearing
and tearing of
skin.
so worn are wrists and necks
broke down spine through sweat stained
life.
stay inside these sheets,
with warm feet
sheltered from this
race.
healing vision see,
evil still breathes in
everyone.
beneath the sheets
hide.
from god,
from the love of my life,
hide from miss
understanding.
just a sorrowful sparrow without song
devouring worms,
with digested
hope.
waiting and withering
as every spoken word
becomes little more than
nothing.