the night is not complete
until in the 22nd hour
the train blows its horn
letting me know all is well and on time
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Author: Georgia Tell
Poem #801 – eternal safari
I crack the window
my first breath of fresh air
at 6:28 pm
outside there’s a field and a horse
I stay inside
but it’s nice to look
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Poem #800
write the stars on my body
like they are written on my mind
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Poem #799
even folded
my wings are bright
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Poem #798
my sadness;
folded up
put away into the linen closet
until I change the sheets
and it swallows me
I can’t leave bed for weeks
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Poem #797
I’m alone
not doing too well
a beetle
with a cracked exoskeleton
functioning
but not thriving
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Poem #796
why is it that
when you need people the most
they’re not there
perhaps it is actually
that you don’t need them
until they’re gone
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Poem #795 – everything’s alright
my burning ship sails into the harbor
the flames stand taller than the mast
but I slip into a slip without a blip.
once tied off, I stroll across the dock to dry land
firefighters haul their heavy hose past me
fast paces and serious faces, I don’t know where the race is
Poem #794 – why I dream of them only after they were gone
I neither flick nor otherwise attempt destruction
of the tiny flea that jumps onto my arm
a “good” person doesn’t fuss over trivial matters
it harvests my blood,
not nearly enough to suck me dry,
I itch for a week.
I am angry.
it’s not the blood I miss
it’s the bump I never wanted
Poem #793
when you’re suicidal,
you’re supposed to tell someone
but, thing is, you know it’s crazy
and you know you won’t do it
no reason to worry people.
the insidious thing is the longer you don’t speak
the more the urge to die wins
because it lives in isolation
a bacteria that blooms in your dark-dense agar