Edge me out

3 01 2009

Sadness comes with midnight.
I walk the edge of nothing but stars
the dizzy multitude crowd the sky,
light years apart

Cold trembles my fingers,
and I strain my neck to push the poison.
Smoke grey clouds, a blanket
to cover my face.

Soon, I’ll go inside,
to the weight of snores
and scrambled eggs for breakfast

the smell of smoke will linger,
crushed bits of starlight will dust my hair,
fallen eons from the sky.




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