Dawning Creations

Toasty, nursing a fever.
Blindly cursing, spewing spittle and words as if they’ll find a receiver.
This doesn’t amount to much, a short step over an ant hill.
I wanted so much more than raving rantings, fever induced lucid dreaming happenings, happening.

Right now, I’m closing my eyes and drinking down this reality dose.
It’s an acrid swallow.
Dry and surreal, I continue kidding myself that I’ll wake up from this tomorrow.

Toasty and sweating
willing to be regretting,
refreshing my mind by closing my eyes.
My hands are folded, knees bent.
I’m praying for peace for better days to reign.