deepundergroundpoetry.com

In the Dark, Before Coffee

awake  
never slowly,      
just suddenly aware;      
Pain greets me      
with a rough kiss,    
missing my mouth      
completely,    
brushing my neck, instead;    
Morning rolls over,      
incensed at the intrusion,      
huffing under her breath;    
I sigh to the shadows,    
why must it always be this way    
between us?
   
     
arguing with 5 am is useless    
but I do it anyway -    
Sleep hates the conflict,    
slipping away to hide;    
I won’t see him again today      
although I know he will lurk    
quietly around every corner,    
he’s an old jealous lover    
who doesn’t really want me,    
he just doesn’t want anyone else    
to have me    
     
funny, the way my mind      
always wants to paint love    
or hate into every picture;    
makes me wonder    
if the human condition    
is really just a constant state      
of wanting the things      
we can’t seem to find,    
of grieving for things    
that were never ours      
     
my thoughts race ahead of me,    
a continuous asphalt track      
running in congested circles,    
greyhounds chasing fake rabbits -    
exhausting themselves      
not knowing they’ll never    
catch the damn thing they’re after -    
the game’s always been rigged,    
but anything (everything) looks      
close enough to the real deal    
when you’re never allowed      
to get quite close enough    
to tell the difference,    
when you’ve been trained      
to take off at breakneck speed    
at the pop of anything      
that sounds like gunfire    
     
I digress, and for that    
I must apologize;    
I am rarely in control    
of my meandering mind,    
but even less so      
in the dark, before coffee    
     
doesn’t seem to matter      
how close the race,    
your face is always    
the top contender,    
edging forward      
with fierce determination,    
like sunlight beaming      
its warmth      
to the forest floor,    
encouraging dead stumps    
to bring forth life;    
every long-gone thing    
will tell you it’s hard to grow    
in the shadows of those    
who’ve already tried it      
and never succeeded    
in reaching the canopy,    
but I cling to the hope I find    
buried deep in words read    
before my eyes were      
fully open,    
compelling me to turn    
the soil, just a bit    
to see if we can’t get      
something green to appear    
once again    
      
     
Written by LunaGreyhawk
Published | Edited 15th Sep 2020
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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