It's 1 AM and there are ghosts in my head

May 31, 2012

It’s 1 AM and there are ghosts in my head

My ears echo – scattered

laughter and other sounds that belong

to sitcom reruns – faint

whispers above the soft rushing

of the ceiling fan. 

Under my eyelids crawl

harmless bits of movie trailers, dissolving

into the smooth darkness that surrounds everything. 

This darkness, this

secret place under my skin,

behind my bones,

where I imagine

the shining yet-to-be,

the bright-blinding

firework future:

white feathers, white

petals, white gown,

white fading

into everything, everything

fading into white. 

But perhaps these are only advertisements

and job descriptions,

magazine clippings

and music videos replaying and

playing and playing

as if they comprised the quiet

inner-workings of my brain.

Maybe,

I think as I drift off to sleep. 

Maybe tonight I’ll have dreams of my own.