I miss humor

Every Harlot was a virgin once

you're blind

but sight is overrated

it was like watching someone else drown
like breaking someone else's hands with steal rods
but waking up with splintered fingers

I feel you climbing up,

clambering through the dampened tunnel

rooted in purgatory.
I feel you reaching out,
like some willful militia
born from my veins.
I hear you retching
and choking in your own,
liquid form.
and I see you gasping,
growling,
hollering
at the still born plasma
come to drown you.

And still you come,
in rain, in sleet, in shine,
you come to fill my sweet bowl
up with a melancholy surprise.
you come to clean me out
and fester for a while.

I can't tie you down
I can't bring you with me
you were never mine to keep.

all day long,
I have been making lists. Lists of loves, hates, like, dislikes, sadness, happiness, so on and so forth.
I've been doing this in preparation of evening, so that tonight may be the night I finally sleep.
I need to rid my mind of thought, and plunge deep into this emptiness.

all the while waiting

waiting
waiting
waiting