Alone with the thought of everything
And all of it in blackness around my bedside table.
It’s a wonder the world continues to barge forward when
In the end, the words left etched on the
Glass panes above our office doors are always
I don’t know if I could ever take this long term,
If I could ever look into the eyes of the
Lonely pitch black vacant spots and say
Give me this, or bring this back, or let this always be.