Thursday, March 1, 2012

tiny deaths...

every night.

they call sleep the "little death". a prelude to the larger more expansive death. a glimpse into the darkness beyond.

in my tiny death i am haunted by him. by things that can never be. by moments that are lost to me now.

and every morning. when i wake. alone. i die even more.

and i damn every waking moment. every passing second that it takes for me to rise from my coffin.

i wait for my tiny death... to grow.

to encompass.

to let me sleep.

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