12:43 a.m.

I am waiting to hear a low moan
murmuring across miles of plains
in the flat space between sleep and this room
that will never protect me

I wish I was lost again
where the sky would simply
cradle my lifeless frame
but I am a pawn without the will

I turn over in the sheets
listen to arguments on the wind
endings writhe against the window
fiends grasp at my heart and
icy breath forces itself against my skin

I know that I am not safe here
and I will not rest again


© 2.23.12 heather brager