bound to that sleigh that we used to share
waiting for that sun to dip below the trees
til the neighbors prying eyes can no longer spy with ease
do i patiently lay wishing on those feeble stars
that this slow burn would leave me
that this internal rage would flee
that time itself would slow to a crawl
or words would speed through all those lies
and it would be a welcome addition
if anything
just to feel something again
besides the lumps in the pillows
and the creases on my face from them
as it seems to be now that the hollow has become me once more
and all the missed days
and unanswered calls can do nothing to mask the penetrating desire
to not give a care for anyone or anything
and it continues still
still as a sail that finds no breeze