Poetry & Prose

Falling asleep on the couch at a party

soft suede laughter lullabies

muffle those thoughts that thrive on silence

like a fire feeds on oxygen.


when I close my eyes, its not dark

but deep reddish-orange from the candles

on the coffee table, still lit,

and the world flickers warmly behind my eyelids.

immersed in cozy fetal nostalgia,

my insomnia fades into washed out colors

and is blurred and kind of funny

like the muted conversations I can barely make out

bobbing in the warm night around me.

I forget about the seething machine in my head,

its whirring and sputtering drowned out by the pleasant din,

and let fatigue pull me in like a sighing lover

resting my head on her downy chest, for once

unafraid of what my dreams hold.

tethered to voices floating just outside comprehension,

I drift peacefully into sleep.


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