Smelling of lukewarm coffee & disillusion
Rough mornings coming from too little sleep
Nightmares of our mutual defaulted dreams
Yet you weren’t rumored to be that deep
Stagnant when we were supposed to be more
Odd vibrations upon the last & final pew
Still looking for Her among mismatched notes
But she can make old poems smell brand new
Liberation granted by the morning alarm
Still alive; this body aching with rippling fatigue
October visions, yet I’m safe from obvious harm
Visions dwindling; remnants of horrific intrigue
Seeking out coffee to loosen this slumber
A stretch & chance to deliberately mourn
These dreams encrusted in burnt umber
Sworn to abide by the wisdom of Nat Hawthorn
The terror that befalls us when we’re unaware
Soon free from the slow tolling of the funeral bell
Needful sleep caught us within a nightmare
Unconsciously breaking from a manufactured hell
Visions of dropping acid with William Blake
Dawn is our escape; returning to peace as we wake
I can’t sleep when my mind rattles
Possibility of losing the dream stirs me awake
I need to cherish all we have
Though my poor soul needs a break
Lady, I love you more than words
Prove to me this isn’t a nightmare
That all we have is real & secure
Rouse me from fear; smack my derrière
Life isn’t so perfect
We’ll all get bumps & bruises
Nightmares will find a way
But the path is the one she chooses
Victims are merely lame footnotes
She’s the heroine of her own script
Casting off their burdens/ flipping the bird
“Fuck off, society” she blatantly quipped
Image by engin akyurt from Pixabay
Please tell me a story
Give me a reason to smile
Distract me from this distress
& forget these damn trials
One day, these will be a memory
A nightmare of us being apart
But until that blissful moment
I’d love something from the heart
Captain Q 