08-21-2017, 11:34 AM
First Edit:
Parenthood
My worry for you surrounds me like a body bag.
I struggle to find an opening,
but the blackness refuses to relent.
Lost, I cry out, only to discover
a dead man has no voice.
I try to thrash about, desperate
to open my eyes, to watch you
line up your toys one last time.
The dream shifts,
my worry now a drop cloth
that protects me from a dark desire
to never wake up.
Original:
Parenthood
My worry for you surrounds me like a body bag.
I struggle,
desperate to find an opening
or even a corner,
but the blackness refuses to relent.
Then I wonder,
is my worry actually a cloak
that protects me from a dark desire
to lie still and play dead?
Parenthood
My worry for you surrounds me like a body bag.
I struggle to find an opening,
but the blackness refuses to relent.
Lost, I cry out, only to discover
a dead man has no voice.
I try to thrash about, desperate
to open my eyes, to watch you
line up your toys one last time.
The dream shifts,
my worry now a drop cloth
that protects me from a dark desire
to never wake up.
Original:
Parenthood
My worry for you surrounds me like a body bag.
I struggle,
desperate to find an opening
or even a corner,
but the blackness refuses to relent.
Then I wonder,
is my worry actually a cloak
that protects me from a dark desire
to lie still and play dead?
Time is the best editor.