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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Bran Blackbyrd" data-source="post: 25031" data-attributes="member: 1710">My sleeping schedule is in a constant state of flux. I just finished a week-or-so long stretch of going to sleep around 1:00pm, waking anywhere from 6:00pm to 10:00pm, and then doing it again the next night. Only each day I sleep a little less until I'm awake for about 24 hours straight, and then start to return to what most would call normal. Tonight's stop on the road back to normalcy was goig to bed at idnight and waking at 3:30am...Anyway, in the spirit of the thread.RestlessIt's too hot to sleep tonight,and I can feel your memory climbing into bed with me,holding me with your nothing arms.Why can't I just fall asleep tonight,and let you haunt me in my dreams.The fan spins overhead,and moves the heat around in the moonlight,like the smoke from burnt out dreams.It's a midsummer night, and, once again, your spirit comes to seduce me.I can feel the ghost of your rose petal lips, soft against my chest.And I haven't the strength to remove my heart from your teeth.Always it is the same,you slip into my solitude, a smoky spectre,dim reminder of the once blazing fire of our love.You wrap around me a blanket of steam,permeating every inch of my flesh,suffusing me with the phantom sensation of your almost presence. I can taste you on my lips like the juice of some strange fruit.The smell of you driving me mad,making it hard to breathe, harder to think.Leaving me wet, and tired, and spent,and confused, and breathless and unfulfilled.Always this way it ends, relents, for now.But another night comes, and the moon rides high in a cool crisp sky. The air is clear, and so is my head.Finally, I am alone with my thoughts. It makes my bonesache and my teeth hurt, this clarity.The phone rings and I am greeted by the sound of a stranger.The one with your voice, your name, your face. . .And this hollow shell cracks and crumbles to dust,like the forgotten cage of an animal long passed.A heart no longer in use.Eventually I hang up, the air becomes thick and I turn over in my bed.One leg out of the covers, in a failed escape.The fan spins overhead,and moves the heat around in the moonlight,like the smoke from burnt out dreams.Copyright Jason Lewis 6/10/99Heh, hope that didn't take up too much space.</blockquote>

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