Telescope

Forced to sleep on a broken bed
With springs unwound
As wild thoughts clamber through my head
The mattress sinking
As I lay blinking
Thinking about what was never found.


The peeling ceiling, as paper petals
Float down to the ground
Though more like nettles
I should feel their sting
But here's the thing
My hands are numb to their scratching sound.


The moon sits breathing
I see it, in it's glory round
A shadowed sun, without the grieving
Of it's long lost light
It's lacks the fear of night.
It bathes in darkness bright
And that's what I want.

The mattress sinking

As I lay blinking

Thinking about what was never found.