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Sleepless: Staring Back at the Dark.

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Saturday, January 21, 2012. Staring Back at the Dark. These walls around me are so tall. But my nightmares persist;. An uneasy existence with myself remains. The streets in my head. All wander about;. In the wrong end of town-. But my feet stay firmly,. These days of endless summer,. These days of passing worry. Are enough to keep my stomach. Seeped in it's own blood;. It seems to clearly know,. What I've only been able to guess at. Each moment falls away. And the rainfall gauge creeps along;. You were w...

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Sleepless: Afterthought

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Friday, November 2, 2012. There is something irresistable. About loving an idea and only and idea. We are captivated by the past. And the paths that we never walked. Sometimes, without knowing, head wins over heart. And we watch passively, as. We will love as we are expected to. We will think about the hard fought dreams. Of our youth's persistence. As if they were only the fanciful,. Of someone else's home movie. We all sit in the dark sometimes,. Contemplating the features within the shadow of a face.

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Sleepless: Walking in the Wind

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Monday, November 14, 2011. Walking in the Wind. We carry our homes in our hearts,. No matter the pain. Wander to find greater inspiration. In the wide open-. And childhood windows,. But the grit beneath our nails will never lie,. For native soil lies deeper. It may be undesired,. Never spoken of again-. And hidden away to spare the judgement. Or country bumpkin,. Home will always remain steadfast. Its been a long time, friend. forgot how much i enjoy your prose. December 9, 2011 at 12:54 PM.

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Sleepless: Rounding the Bases

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Monday, July 13, 2015. Rain and thunder outside of a small room. A brief tour of San Francisco comes to mind. You didn't know me then. I was just as bad at making decisions. My book pile is swelling again,. Driven by flight of fancy or the insistence of new friends. A trip to Tennessee with. A tentpole in my chest;. A heart full of. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). View my complete profile. This work by Benjamin Runco. There was an error in this gadget. Robert Bruce American. Writer. Drinker.

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Sleepless: Untitled

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Wednesday, January 11, 2012. I cannot stand the sight of their deaths. Nights, interrupted with sweat and a chest of pain,. A towel down to soak it all up; then. Sleeping again, but not on yellow-ringed sheets but unaware,. On bathroom tile and a time-flattened rug-. Each morning realizing a phantom bender,. Devoid of a single drink from the night before. They are all older in the great scheme but younger in my mind;. They are forefathers, mothers, and siblings. I hope to lose all of my warmth before then.

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Sleepless: Untitiled

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Tuesday, July 3, 2012. Drink in dark, unmemorable bars. Hoping for their own reflections to walk out. From behind the frosted glass, behind. The liquor bottles and beer neon;. Someone to talk to. More than their last great love. Lovely and lonely Benjamin. July 5, 2012 at 1:01 PM. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). View my complete profile. This work by Benjamin Runco. Is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License. There was an error in this gadget. The mad...

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Sleepless: Concerning the Blank

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Sunday, August 12, 2012. A crisp, white plain. Broken only with lines. And sometimes a blinking. With the spoils of prior. In grey matter tea. One should be reminded of. Thundering concertos to come. Dust tends to gather in these moments. Reminding us of our own stillness. Glasses fog, smudged fingerprints appear. And housework becomes an. Paper cuts become a. For all the notes that came before;. Only the lost bits. Of grocery lists remain. The twice forgotten red onion. Remains in the miserable. Skin fo...

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Sleepless: The One

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Wednesday, February 1, 2012. Tequila to hangover,. Cause and then on. No time machines, and. We all miss what never was. Though we're supposed to know. Even before it shines clear in the. The past was, and remains all smokey eyes. And cringe-worthy first time drinks-. There's always that one, blinking. Almost, burnt out filament. In the nasty bathroom. Where we questioned everything the first time. It all looks so perfect now. We hate ourselves often;. Catholic guilt if we're catholic. Nothing can be said.

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Sleepless: Sleepless

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Thursday, June 4, 2015. There is no sleep left-. Chest heaving, empty;. I am alone here,. My family is gone. I have been called "a cancer". I have driven dark roads,. The only direction I knew,. I have reached out. And been told to move on, but also. To hope, and. My chest is empty,. There are still tears,. Now there are new arms around her, and. Years ago there was a boy that lost a girl. Now there is a man that lost a woman. I'm not sure what to tell him. To console him when he is at his worst. This wo...

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Sleepless: Bourbon Sweat

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Monday, July 25, 2011. Written out on a beach. On a sunny day. In the back of your mind-. Never quite washed away. You will never stop hearing the echo,. You will never stop feeling that certain pain,. You will never stop reaching for another,. You will never stop shivering when a cigarette is. You will always think of those glasses-. And the smear of make-up. You were the one that made them cry,. But you never remember it that way. They left you,. They abandoned you like some spoiled thing. Here and now,.