Wednesday, June 28, 2006

1 am

“I don’t know you anymore.”
A broken bottle falls to the floor
Filled with the promises you can’t keep.
At the sight of it, I weep.
As the tears fill my eyes
I slowly realize
Who you are
And who I am not.

I am not your beloved,
Nor am I responsible for your joy.

With a towel in hand, I sink
And wipe away the last links.
I stand and walk from the pain
Trying hard not to notice the stain.

A few nights ago, around 1 am, I had just laid down (lain down?) to sleep when I wrote the first stanza in my head. I had to get up out of bed and find a pencil and scratch of paper to write it down on, and then I started writing more. I've since started keeping a pencil or pen on my nightstand :)

1 comment:

Martha Elaine Belden said...

First... this is awesome! I think it's my favorite of your stuff thus far.

Second... I've done the same thing several times and now have a pen and journal in my bedside table. I feel like the stuff I've come up with in the middle of the night, on the edge of sleep, has been some of my best work.

Can't wait to