flickering light: poem

a dim light peers over my hand, perusing yet shadowing my words. flicker. a flicker of an idea. flicker, a glimpse of that sweet, idolized result. the velevet silence humming in my ear. the near rise and fall of the entire home, heavy with the breath of those deep in sleep. the flickering stops and becomes so dim that soon i am writing in the complete dark that has gradually pooled across my page. the silence drools and smears. i am completely aware i should be enveloped in a think, sleepy, dark rather than this stale, dim light. but along with every thought that acrues, every idea into a reality, my hands tremble to pour it out, under this flickering light. soon, as the words alter my conciousness, i find a tear rolling down my cheek, a laugh creeping out. the tranquil menagerie has soon raced into a storming stampede, trekking through the forest of lines, the empty pools of blanks, infesting without thought or consideration. flicker. pool. the silence is pounding in my ears, in my heart. i cant go to sleep anytime soon. through this flickering light, i remember me, and infest these pages with that flickering, and those memories.