Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Things You Can't Touch

You turn to the left
In your empty bed
To make things right

I feel sick from late nights
Disenchanted, unattached
To the actions, the words
The crowds
That move in
Stay out

You turn to the right
In your empty bed
So it doesn't feel like
I left

I lost my identity inside of the laughter
Abandoned my ghost in the coat check
At the bar

My body wants more
I don't

I stare at the ceiling
In my empty bed
Like there is no sky
Above it

The water stains
Look like angels
Around the flickering
Yellow bulb
That is heaven

Almost awake
Sleep-eyed and
Drunk dreaming
I spy you through
Pieces of the wine glass
I didn't mean to break

You are struggling
To see me

You act like you're happy
Breathing in
Breathing out
As you leave yourself
Floating inside of
Empty word bubbles
Convulsing on ecstasy
Inside of any paradise
You can reach

Like a fly in the light
On my ceiling

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