Latest Forum Posts:

Categories

The Cool Side of the Pillow
By
Daisy

The Cool Side of the Pillow

Sometimes, overloaded senses can be forgotten in a simple gesture, just for a moment...

This poem only available on Stories Space. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen.

Languishing dreams where a heart grows still,
Slowing tick of the clock drives distraction to
Death's resurrection in
Grey of the day
Where the sun has lost hope and
The curtains are drawn.

Here I lie in the dark with the monsters of crowds,
Where the gibber and growl of the wraiths howl inside
And the pain rends destruction
Through chasms of fear
Where my safety forgot
It could breathe once
Alone.

Heavy pall,
Stuffy air,
Sweating skin layered greasy
And hair clings to face wetly grasping dead face,
And the memories surge to the consciousness hid,
Waking misery's wife
Holding knife to her throat.

Cotton tear-crusted and dribbled-stiff pillow,
I lay my head down under burdened despair.
Only movement I manage is flipping the weight
Of old feathers in cambric
To snuggle me down
Where the cool side o' the pillow
Soothes my fever
To sleep.

This poem only available on Stories Space. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen.
This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than storiesspace.com with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © Copyright ©2019 Daisy Shylass All Rights Reserved. This material may not be reproduced, displayed, modified or distributed without prior permission. Please be respectful of my intellectual property.

To link to this poem from your site - please use the following code:

<a href="https://www.storiesspace.com/stories/poetry/the-cool-side-of-the-pillow.aspx">The Cool Side of the Pillow</a>

Comments (3)

Tell us why

Please tell us why you think this story should be removed.

Reason