Sleepless Soliloquy
The Thoughts That Creep in at Night
It’s 3 AM
So far from the
morning’s glowing
burn,
no closer to
evening’s funereal
eclipse.
TV flickering ahead,
pixilated hues
fighting away
the loneliness.
Neighbors outside
my door,
sipping whiskey,
making bad
decisions.
Volume is all
but muted. Silence
agonizes me
in this solitude.
Whispers of
“Damn it, Bobby”
buried under
refrigerator hums
and air conditioner groans
amplify my isolation.
You think I would
be accustomed to it
by now, being a
solo act
for so long.
Shadows creep,
a reminder
that I am alone.
You are not here
nor have you been,
since that gummy
summer night, spent
in my car listening
to bad love songs
and fuck love
songs.
Long gone
from my life—
that is, if
you were ever there
to begin with.
About the Creator
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