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 read more...