On the Line

Love and ecstasy combine for us.
They become way too much
To take at one time.
fighting and biting to stay on the line,
Seeming as such
Just the thought of your touch
must be some sort of sin. Forbidden.
When heaven can’t preserve
what we know we both have been.

Our love is whelming on the line.
And I know heaven nor I
Could bear to resist
When your voice insists
That You’re only mine.
My life, my heart, every time. . .
What I’ve been holding onto,
Taken at that penetration line.


Briley was called in to work at the last minute. Sucks, because I was looking forward to seeing her. Though it's probably for the better, because I've slowly been developing one of those annoying migraines which is really fucking with my head right now. Lonely. . .roommate snoring on the couch, tv on though I'm not watching it. Probably ought to just take a seroquel and pass the fuck out. Taking the pill is the easy part. Remembering to go to sleep is where it gets tricky. I have a strange sense of focus. I'll become so engulfed in even mundane things. Next thing I know, an hour, two, or several have passed. I just keep going, knockout meds and all. I find myself still awake when they've long worn off. I'm sure I'd feel better if I just got some damn sleep. 
It's all in my hands now. Get it? Because I'm lonely. .?!
I will know soon enough if I can win the battle of the dark and sleep in a way that resembles a healthy human being. At night, and not in increments of a few hours.
At least I don't have nightmares anymore.
Disturbing dreams? sure. Recurring? You bet. But I don't wake up screaming like I used to--every fucking time I tried to sleep.
So, I'm not really that sleep deprived right now. But I could use something restful. A few hours of forgetting, maybe. Is that so much to ask?

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Filed under love, migraines, poem, poetry

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