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misstree
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night is too still, eating everthing past my window, chilled and damp and soundless. my body is rebelling with the turn of the season, meat's fever somehow turning mind to unfamiliar machine. i crave someone to sleep next to, but i know that this state is better kept in isolation. recuperate before i next invest. but sleep is such a stranger tonight, grinning none too friendly. last night i woke from a dream because there was no other option, because i was staring down the barrel of a gun. no surprise that i shy from such landscapes.
but the sooner i sleep the sooner i get well, the sooner i leave the void between night and morning, the sooner something, anything happens, and life is affirmed.
now i just have to want to sleep.
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060921
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