Looming release

Strangely empty
Or too full of something cloudy
Too tired to sleep
Craving some type of fulfilling promise
But with a twinge of frantic sleeplessness
Looking for love in podcasts
In loving memory
And writing things to free myself
Rachmaninov vespers cloak my ears
Both separating the heavy lining of darkness from my meninges
And sitting down with darkness for Earl Grey
The failures of the day leave a residue on my ocular nerves
And the phone calls slightly mend
Still throbbing
But now, a low, melodic moan
Instead of frantic screams for release


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