The Sun Never Rises
If I could, I would bite into you.
Bite down, sink my teeth into the story.
I would listen and question and wonder
why the sun never rises in my bedroom,
why the morning never comes.
I’m sorry
This isn’t my feeling;
you are someone else’s sunrise.
I don’t know how to tell you that I don’t know what to do.
I fell into you
as a million paper planes crash into the sea and are,
if only for a moment,
afloat.
Then the waves come
and I drown in the sleeplessness,
drown in you.
My dreams change every night, yet I know
I want to swim.
I don’t want to die.
I want to see the amber reflection of sunlight
caught in the gravity of your tears
falling into orbit around me.
A constellation of worry
in a solar system stuck in perpetual darkness.
2 thoughts on "The Sun Never Rises"
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.
“I fell into you
as a million paper planes crash into the sea and are,
if only for a moment,
afloat” –over and over YES!! Love this poem!
I love this a lot, Sam. I relate to these emotions more often than not, but there is also a certain sweetness in it to, don’t you think (or maybe I’m just crazy)?