I woke up early today, sitting in bed
not sure if I should get up
or roll under my bed and hide
from the black – dark that tastes bitter
like dry arugula stuck in my teeth.
The silence is numbing and scrapes
inside my head, nails scratching
a blackboard with rambling scribblings
pushing me in spirals. Sometimes
the world hops out of view.
What is life, if there is no afterlife?
A prefix for nothing, a start missing
an ending, a fire extinguished
eventually. What is life without a spark
divine or otherwise brightening dark?
We live, we love, we work, we die,
circles overlapping as we mark time
like fireflies enjoying the dusk aware
that night must inexorably snuff
the light we flash for as long as we can.
I swing my feet to the floor, facing the day
or whatever may barrel headfirst
before night, realizing life isn’t meaningless
for those we share meaning with, more lamps
to illuminate even the largest room.
Phillip Knight Scott | © 2019
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