Have Some Wine, There Isn'T Any Poem by Twisted Moon

I stare at a white screen
As hollow as my dreams
I look up at the sky
If it is real then I will fry
I look down at the ground
There is nothing after this, no thought no sound

I touch the hair on my head
The little angel on my shoulder is dead
I reach out through the mist
Trying to find why we exist
I stumble forward I am blind
Still fixated on what I left behind

I hear the sound of my own heart
I wonder why it is beating and where did it start
In pain now it’s beating fast
With the torture and torment of my past
I wish I could go back
To a mother so broken and a father so cracked

I take a look in the mirror
I see a life dominated by fear
I see a face full of resistant stitches
Hiding from life’s mysterious glitches
I tear madly at a vital suture
For what I fear most of all is my own future