It's twilight again in my awkward brain
And though I can hope to hold off the night
I know it will fall and take me along

plunging

to the place where thoughts chase their tails to no end
until they expire and intrude even then
with the smell of slow death
breaking down like cheap razors given the right pressure
leaving only the bare bony blade of fear
and my own life is a weapon my thoughts use against me
sniffing out flaws for which I must pay
all the while circling and pursuing a fiction
for had my thoughts tails they might have an end
and might cease their pounding a moment or two
might lay down their heads and use night for sleeping
and realize in the morning--well, anything, really.

Twilight in my brain and noon on my lips
Bright enough to burn the eyes that will not see the darkness.
Scream, smiling, and burn more brightly
And suffocate slowly one day at a time. . . .

But no.

Time to build some fires of my own;
The days of glass and blades are over.
It's time to stand and put down rabid thoughts.
Funny how twilight looks like dawn reversed.

August '04

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