A Swamp of Mismatched Thoughts

Tonight I’m blue,

I scale the moist sidewalks back home.

Amidst shivering breeze,

I walk with adolescent joy shying away.

 

In pleasure of good friends or intoxicating glass of wine,

Neither makes quite the impression to win my attention.

Rather, a swamp of mismatched thoughts crawls deep into my head,

And keeps me from straying away, but from thinking of you.

 

No hand to clasp. My chest, unembraced.

Awkward silence prevails ironically in solitude.

I let my duvet smother me, hoping for a fast track into dreams

And eagerly await tomorrow when beside me you would lay.