deepundergroundpoetry.com
Lying Here
Lying here,
eyes sore.
Dreams that
were have
left me to
wonder how
much of them
were inspired. Fan
generates white
noise, sunlight
lemon yellow on
smoky blue walls.
A chill in the
form of a
timestamp on a
clock ghosts
up the stairwell.
Throw a leg over
the side of the
bed, the other is
bound to follow.
Frost clings to
living things
inside and
out.
Shadow of a
crow on the
windowsill.
No longer
longing.
Published 1st Feb 2015
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