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Sunday

A cacophony of sound beats around 
inside my brain, deafening drops.

Sunday misery breaking the silence 
of yesterdays. Rainy Mondays, 
no hope for tomorrows.

We come and go. We come and go
when the floodgates of pain are open. 

Forgiveness closes doors 
left ajar in anger. 
Time moves forward, 
changes are subtle, 
inevitable. 

Hope does damage to the living dead. 

Alone in...

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Fade to Burn

Sometimes a river,
sometimes an ocean, 
a trickle, a flood 
a commotion of emotion.

Stars explode into the sun 
and the moon does run 
undone. 

Midnight blue the sky inside 
passion and desire, 
tornado and lightning 
combined.

Open clouds, 
rain thunders numbers.

Today I burn 
cages and ghosts.
Tomorrow I fade 
to grey absent space.


©JMCole 

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