late nights without

it’s the middle of the night
bed empty
sheets warm

can’t sleep

been awake forever
seems like
head keeps buzzing with thoughts
there is no
my terrible device

last thought of you
stars in your hair
where the snowflakes fell, white
on Irish auburn

i am a fool
and have managed somehow
to capture you

dry i feel inside
jug without water
bottled air

i want something, i sense it
but i can’t focus enough
for the shape
to coalesce

it’s there
beneath the skin
fire in the clay

magic in the madness

push me, push me
steam engine roaring
on a last chance run
the mountain

i will climb to meet exhaustion
head on
a wink of light
in an all too familiar

sobriety needs no introduction

© Emerys Watchel, 2016 All rights reserved.


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