Morning Glory

Waltzing around in morning light,
behind a truck coughing blood
while my thoughts flow
behind glass.
What if
the stars started falling from the sky
or gathered in the darkness
behind my eyelids.

Hopeless dreams
wicked thoughts
you call it a gift
I call it a curse.

It hits like pits of fire
in the middle of the night
like burning kisses
no peace, no rest.

Even in the morning
behind bloody wheels
I see nothing
consumed in thought.

And behind blue walls
where you will never enter
I scream without cracking my lips
ghostly winds
another soothing breeze
you’d think.