Sat at the window staring into a faceless sky,
I watch sporadically as strangers drift by.
Lost in thought or deep in tune,
the morning sun will rise soon.
Soft pink fleece wrapped around me
I pull in close to the heater so I can see
better the sky that leaves me, one leg is warm
the rest of me begins to thaw.
I have woken lost in thoughts of a day without explanation,
A moment perhaps of divine realisation.
Warmth from the heater barely penetrates as I feel the constant tingle
of a goosebumps map a dot to dot to keep me nimble.
Sipping on hot, sweet, brown liquid from a spurs mug
as tiredness gives one last tug, but I fear the desperate pull of vivid dreams that haunt my mind,
and I beg today to please be kind.
The dark skies swarm I breath it in on bubbles of air,
seeping into my blood, it wants my body to share.
It drags open the hidden box and pleads for me to turn the key,
It begs with numbers seen everyday. I am on my knees empty and hollow,
waiting for life to take one last swallow.
Karen Hayward ©2016.