Thursday, April 28, 2011

NaPo 18 - Epiphany

I don't care if I'm 15 poems behind. I'm doing this.


The light rail is bad luck.

His voice crashed into my head, the city lights
burned the words into my retinas - I never
warranted the words I had embedded
like shrapnel into my skin - though
I seldom do.

Sleepers surrounded me in the 1 A.M.
voyage, but my mind awoke that night
to all the startling realities of my recent
life -

I was tired
of sleeping.

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