Good Night This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

November 13, 2009
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Deaf to all sounds
Numb to all touch
I sit and rot
While blocked from all thought

The crackle of the old air conditioner
Fades away
And the static of the TV
Dies
The beep of my phone
When someone texts
Is blurred once I've said good night

Head on icy pillow
Cold comforter tucks me in tight
A frigid wall to stare at
As no comfort comes from the night

Lying motionless
As if I'm dead
Hoping maybe tonight,
I'll stay in my head.
Longing for that unconscious feeling
Where nothing exists anymore
When you're not quite asleep
And you're not awake
Where nothing can disturb the isolation

Nothing running through my head;
Just staring at the faded blue wall
Nothing but the flicker of the light
And the stars outside that can't shine bright
Nothing in my head,
I'm just lying there
With glistening eyes that do nothing but stare

Deaf to all sounds
Numb to all touch
I sit and rot
While blocked from all thought

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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chrisbriones said...
Sept. 26, 2010 at 11:36 pm
might i ask you to read my new poem? I always appreciate your words. It's titled The Night Bird
 
chrisbriones said...
Jul. 22, 2010 at 8:44 pm

Ive observed that pain (via longing, guilt, and regret) is my strongest inspiration for writing. In fact, my three best poems were created through my pain.

Pain and soberness is indeed a strong instigator, as both you and i prove. This poem is no exception to the elite gallery of sober thoughtfulness.

 
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