HOSPICE OF FULL STOPS

we
voluntarily cry out
for
vulnerable unconsciousness
at
the
days
tumbled
ellipsis . . .

& if the gift is given

then praise be

~

we disappear somewhere then
somewhere in brackets
that noone proofread

trusting
in
the
walls around us
&
dawns
scheduled
bold font
vtol

that highlights
nights two way mirror
in grey smudge

ready for deletion
with coffee number 1

~

then
the
day
is
there

like a flat tire is there

a hospice of full stops

pretending
to
be
italic
comic sans

from kyliecalwell.wordpress.com

ITS NEVER HERE WHEN I WAKE

eyes shut
i tumble some

and something happens
and i dance inside

kind of - its blurred

like its the past in there

or
a
riddle
of days to come

and theres a book there i read from
thats never here when i wake