Drowning: Notes of an Online Journal

“Drowning”

I’m sensing a pitch of motion
While out in the hall pulling watch,
I sit surrounded by ocean
As the deck crawls in drowning moths.

There’s a storm front over the bed;
Our mothers cower beneath it.
A migraine is stalled in my head,
Focused on numbing bereavement.

The course of events is unknown,
An unseen barrage colder still.
The others are gathered like clones
A whole other place for the kill.

I know that the doctor is here,
He’s talking downstairs on the phone.
There’s no need for shedding a tear,
I see you’ve not come here alone.




NaPoGloPoWriMo 2019