Alone,

Alone,

In the dark,

Spread-eagled.

The barely visible,

A barren plateau.

Heavy limbed,

And too tired.

Movement restricted,

As if by ligatures,

Tightened

Over goose flesh,

Threshed to a standstill.

Garbage,

Dumped,

At the edge

Of a landfill.

Nothing moves,

The only sound

Is city slumber,

Like a distant drum.

A night of souls,

A world away,

Sleeping their own

Lives.

Living their own dreams

In different rooms.

Behind closed doors.

Off shadowed halls.

There is no start

To waking.

It just appears,

And the space

It leaves,

Feels like a

Yawning chasm,

You are poised

To fall into.

As a pale pool,

Of sickly light,

Spills over

To the bed,

From the window sill,

Crushing the marrow

From your bones,

Leaving you breathless,

Bloodless.

What a way

To welcome the day.