Liminal Cliff

I didn’t shower last night
crawled to bed near comatose

blinds cracked, a street light date
keeps me warm in that cold distant way

just enough light, just enough space
don’t come too close, I can’t play

— waiting for the sound of thoughts
in dim night brakes my awareness

cusp of nothingness calls me near
while time on clock mocks my fear

tick
tock
ti..

…hushhh. I can’t think.
forget me and let me be…

..ck.

the only thing I want is dark
my reliable shifting confidant

the backside of night taunts
it waits for me to relent

to at last, say — fuck.
it throws bets down on the felt
under its looming light

that it will outlast my torment
a toss and a torturous turn

liminal cliff my poetic haunt
not asleep, not awake

…don’t make me
…don’t make me
…don’t make me

choose…

~ Emily C.

3.8.17

*****

Inspired by S Francis at Sailor Poet to write on the subject “the backside of night”, his answer to when he likes to find inspiration to write. Charles at The Reluctant Poet answered with his own poem responses.  Both excellent writers, check them out when you get a chance!

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