quickly and easily does morning arrive,
my appetitie for nocturnal fantasies releases me,
my home within a home fades and dissolves,
no more shadows do I fear from which I hide,
no more guilty memories from which I surrender;
but, as each day unravels I do succomb to emptiness,
far more cruel than I have ever known and it
beckons me with tantalizing whispers that I now
crave its empty, endless void as if sleep was
the perfect fantasy that somehow never ends.
September 12, 2012
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