A daze of melancholic days

Come Listen to Rachel’s Recitation

In mind and out

I know these melancholy mornings well
yet they don’t even know themselves
from afternoons or evenings
Their presence is distinguished
by a lack
of distinguishing features,
They are faceless, anaemic
eyes white with meaningless lies
like the weather is ‘fine’
(it isn’t ,
and neither are they) –
Those days sigh,
and their sympathies lie with
a book whose pages were never turned,
beside dregs of leftover dreams
and a half empty cup of coffee

On these melancholy mornings
it feels like there is nothing left
except for the singular rose outside the window
I stare at it, bereft
and wish it to bloom
and as if in slow motion
morning becomes afternoon


Image: Natalia Drapina, Deviant Art


Apologies also, my site has been behaving very strangely, and has had to be refreshed. I’m blaming technology 😂

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