Numb, An Author - Code

numb as a clock

with a drawn face

haunted by my beats

numb an author

uninvented by sleep

broken arm

uninvented by sleep

a tumbling wheel

forming patterns in the sand

whirling, uneven

a bruise going deeper within

releasing unhappiness

it’s work but not completed

but what could be left

what corner is kept

my fever

a cloud that thunders a fiction about

you

spoiled that which was good

of any of it

and seizes my moments

both scolding and embracing

collides with my silence

ungraciously devolving

and I give it a sign

I surely am disarranged by sleep

wear me away into

my patterns in the sand

whirling, uneven

a bruise going deeper within