running on broken glass

disturbed in my dreams the muse comforts me

there are times I know that I try

in between the telephone calls going unanswered

least I be heard in my moment of defragmented being

draw a long lingering breath on another cigarette

as the tip glows red reflecting in my retina

halo’d in a single pupil dilating in the infusion of light

 

the breeze that ruffles the smoke stained muslin curtains

without a care, as the sounds of children playing

chorus in through the opening - disturbing any thoughts of sanity

letting the demons out to play with the kiddies in the streets

clarity in moments like these are not my strong suit

 

shadows continue to dance uneven in time across the tattered wallpaper

faded in from the suns everglow marking the slow passage of time

highlighting the scratchings of well worn nails and a colour no longer crimson

in the eons I have shrunk into my corner to watch and listen

tense from the actions of others I gave up on giving a fuck long ago

settle into the silhouette and worry does it matter

 

the children carry on regardless running barefoot on the broken glass