by: millie

Sitting here wrapped in blankets, can't sleep again,
haughnted by my own demons in the sound of
the shadows on the walls this morning.
The clock flashes a cold 3:15 up at me,
I unplug it for reasons i cannot give you.
The streetlight bleeds in threough the slates
on the blinds and illuminates my fingers with
an almost scary slate grey.
Suddenly, I want to transform into the shadows,
run along the walls, trace your beauty and curves
into something other than poems
which foul me at the memory of you.
Any how the mirror stares sicily and inviting back at me.
I want to peel my clothes off and step into it's surface,
wait to be broken, only to dance inside the shards staring back at you.
Catch me if you can, catch me if you can , catch me if you can.
My eyes are begging but my head is pounding
with broken pieces of the puppet strings she cut
in argument and scalded temperments a few mornings ago;
both of us passing each other in unspoken pain
of being let down one more time on our way to forever.
Creating new holes in each others futures until
we can't breath the toxic air that comes seeping through.
Rescue me. Anyone. No one to glue together this cracked tiara.