Is the brain’s panic

As eyes connect with wrinkled skin

The backs of hands worn thin from scrubbing

Through a life that was always the wrong move

A one way ticket purchased on a lark

Not knowing the devil intended to keep

Whatever bargains he made with you or me

I can no longer help falling into short sleeps

It’s as if the brain light dims no matter what story I tell

Or how gently I shake the knees of the child who just can’t take

Much more of this day or night even though skin

Still feels as electric as ever and a new kind of desperation makes

Need as intense as the cardinal’s red wing

Finding myself on a course of forward drive

With no idea of where forward going might be

It is sad that words like love, blue, sweet, tender

Darling, yes, and more

Became prisoners of self-consciousness and shame

The dream denied like a sentence unjustly served

The words you would have laughed at

Could have set me free