I finished the day with yearning,
Wished the day stretched further,
The violent orange glow and
desperate purples of the sky screaming, reaching
for another breath as the night yawned awake
and smoored the fires of day.
I remember, my head against the pillow,
my hands reaching to clasp some far-off dream.
So content in sleep, so self-absorbed in wakefulness
So conscious somewhere in between.
I remember myself so vividly.
As vivid as the excuses I made for problems I should not have had,
As vivid as the pure emotion that drove my decisions from day to dark.
I loved my beauty, whatever of it I owned, I loved my mind, for it was vast and filled with
I loved the small blooms of wisdom that grew there, that I would pick and share with others.
And so I am unclear, uncertain as to why
this dark, thick fog has descended.
Settled neatly between my confidence and optimism,
Smothering with its full weight upon what defines me.
What I could have been.
April 23, 2015