Ghost Giver (Bedtime Apocalypse)



The ghost giver cannot please electricity     nor can I escape


Abandonment by the body yet I try thru dreams & remedies


But who hides from extinction? As pockets are in the keeps


Of trousers & blue jeans     perhaps we are worn keepsakes


Tinkered through time & grace     it rains surveillance from


Lawless securities     serpents & spells     trails of rehearsed


Winds & bandages from actions     emotions pungent resolve    


Wonder how we mostly in some way restrain from collisions?


Broken in plain     brokenness I made morning notes on how


My thoughts drift to distant lost-darkness after lights go out


So secretly     entire rooms     I toggled     I was tugging sleep


Facsimile of a teal lake     I was in a fake funeral in black attire


Blind hands guessing hard     lack of lampshade     only space


For extended fingertips to embrace the full night of fiery fears


Inside the mind blasting like a turned up television that I can’t


Click off with my own jockeying will     I might be alive for this