Killing Moon

Killing Moon

The full moon screams through
my bedroom window,
Scorching patterns on the wall.
It burns my brain,
Causing wild thoughts,
To answer the silver call.

No rest

possible,
I get up and

roam
in search of

nothing.
I find a

drink,
Some

words
I’m yet again

writing.
Words forcing themselves out,
Tunes

from the day
in my head,

endlessly repeating.

My eyelids prickle,
I need to sleep,
But the moon still haunts me.
The ashen shapes of furniture,
Follow me round,
Until I'm once again free.

2:15 30th July 07