a poem at random

a day is gone
well, half
and i am torn between
being me
and preserving the chance
that i will remain sane
for the rest of it.

rest.
ever get some?
or does that
lit up beeping thing
that slick beauty in your hand
keep you
everyday
alldaynight
in demand
waiting for whispers
some sort of connection
i text
therefore, i am

then there is that blue page
the rage
we all wait
walk across our own stage
sometimes
20 times a day
or more
what might someone say
about what i said
when i saw what they wrote
on their post

i digress

two nights in a row
once
i told my thoughts to go
thru my head
didn't keep them away
didn't let them stay
just closed my eyes
for five
and gave light a chance
to grace my brain
rest.

best do it again
before i forget
how great it is
to wait
listen to peace
let go
of control
and be.

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