Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Rehab

Word play impresses no one,
I miss you real bad.
The list of challenges
barricading my every door
flows like a constant stream,
am I drowning
and have you forgotten me?
I've forgotten how to make my bed.
My friends have no names,
meaning I've forgotten them.
Sometimes I catch a flutter
of words drifting by,
and I grab at them
like some moron at a 3-D film,
before realizing it was just a whisper
escaping your lips,
and that all the pretty colors I'm seeing
are just memories, real and here
with me now, teaching my life
to me one impulse at a time.

No comments:

Post a Comment