ReRuns 29/08/23

Aug 29, 2023
1 min read

Expectations

Tomorrow was my first love,

the one I learnt to pine for,

who I counted seconds for.

I'd wait, and hope, and wait again,

people laughed and time walked by.

When I was young in older clothes,

she came at last.

We wept together,

though for fear or joy I cannot say.

Sleep Fighting

I bear insomnia's black eye,

I taste the punchdrunk iron of it,

the sliding wits and the thick tongue.

It beat me standing,

yet would not let me fall,

content with coward's blows unanswered.

I have no towel to throw,

yet I stand to the bell,

and climb off my canvas tomorrow.

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