i know you’re there,
hiding just out of sight
in the corners of every room
and behind street signs,
watching me as i drive to work,
as i was my face, brush my teeth,
drink my coffee, check my phone
and as i sit in my chair at work,
i feel you creeping up behind me,
your breath caressing
the sensitive flesh of the back of my neck
as you reach around and brush
the the skin around my eyes, stroking
each bag and shadow
until you reach my eyelids
and gently drag them down
holding them there
until all i can see
are the remnants of nightmares
inscribed on their insides


National Poetry Writing Month Day 29: “producing a poem that meditates, from a position of tranquility, on an emotion you have felt powerfully. You might try including a dramatic, declarative statement, like Hass’s “All the new thinking is about loss,” or O’Hara’s “It is easy to be beautiful; it is difficult to appear so.” Or, like, Baudelaire, you might try addressing your feeling directly, as if it were a person you could talk to. There are as many approaches to this as there are poets, and poems.”

(Meant to post this yesterday, but I fell asleep while writing it.)

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