Pobjie Poetry Month Day 11 Title Courtesy of @Ultrahedonist

The Night

Lately it seems
I can't stop thinking about exit wounds
Running fingers around the ragged edges of flesh in my mind
Looking out in the dark
To see who fired that shot
Lately it seems

When the stars are so close
You can hear them breathe and draw blood from your fingertips
Reaching out to touch them
When the air weighs on your chest
Like Salem's stones
And your thoughts cast jealous glares
In your direction
Demanding you spend some time

I thought of you as I slept
Though I didn't know who you were
But I saw you and I touched you and you turned and melted to the floor
And I knelt in you
And I thought of you
And I marched to slay wakefulness
And I failed

Lately it seems
I can't stop wondering whose dream I'm in
And if they'll remember me in the morning
Will I catch on the cobwebs of their brain
Or drift into the night with the dust the mind expels

Tomorrow I'll be dull and weary
Head drooping to my chest as buzzing conversation ruffles my hair
For I'll have just come 
From eight hours of ceiling-stares
And body-rolls
Running through each romantic gesture
That I'll regret not making on the day I die
Kicking over each powdery trace
Of what I didn't do yesterday
And tomorrow I'll be dull and snap and growl 
And throttle myself to stay alive
And tomorrow I'll lie down again
To stare and blink and feel the breath of the stars
And search again for who fired the shot

There's a grey sky outside
And a song on the tides
And lately it seems
I can't stop thinking about myself