torn by a dozen jostling needs
I tossed my head on a twisted pillow
no peace for no resolution
just running all kinds of crap through my mind
facing inevitable invincible consequence...
and for a moment I ceased to turn
and saw a waning moon through
the slats of my window blinds
and I did not feel any flooding of calm
I did not resolve all things
I just froze in my heaving and stared
as some night animal in the woods pauses
from gnawing on its prey and emptily
stares up at the white eye of the black sky...
Content (c) 2008-2013 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.