the seeds of the sandman have not left my eyes
I've been waking all night long
sleeping in shifts
when will this malaise lift
when will I move on
when I tire of staying stuck
then I will disengage from the far too much
and move on to the great unknown
it will be better than living alone
in inertia
forgetting who you are
remembering only who you have been
is a kind of glove
I'm not ready to fit in
the past is the past is the past
let it lay there
in the mud
with the other neuroses crud
yes
I'm cleaving my heart into two
disengaging from the old to the new
I've mentally packed my bags
kicked myself in the butt
this morning
I'm leaving inertia.
Copyright November 6,2012 All Rights Are Reserved By This Author
Melissa A Howells Meloo straight from her Tilt-a-World