Making Time by Lacy D PhillipsAway, Away from light and sound
The days are too long now, and so loud. My mind tuned to the white noise of the interstate, the confused shade of Berber motel carpeting. Blended, Blurring to a blissful distraction. I am ignorant in this moment & every other of emotion, of the numbness in my limbs, an unsure weight like the heavy hand of fate over my eyes rendered blind, a reluctance to react to certain stimuli. A Stop Sign. A Neon Vacancy. I have gone nowhere, and encountered no variation all through this median nation.
Thoughts stick like molasses to the dome of my mind, D R I P slower than the sun sinks behind me. I am weighed down with philosophical viscosity. Either my thoughts are swimming or I'm swimming in them.
Hold my hand, Im ears under the ebb of it now and I dont hear the road calling. Hold my hand, anchor me from the urgency of just one more mile. Time, I can feel it faster flowing, steady, insistent and sinister. Hold my hand. Hold my hand, I demand of the dark.
Away, Away from light and sound
04/11/2004 Author's Note: I was trying to express the feeling of being so tired you can't sleep, and it turned into a sort of cross-country adventure. Because I was asked to explain the "annoying" line breaks, I will. The line breaks in the first stanza were meant to convey a nodding off and jerking awake affect to give the peice more shape. The second and third both trail off for obvious reasons. Even though it's no fun if you have to explain it, the environment of the car isn't given much air time because it's really secondary to the whole internal experience of extreme fatigue. So there.
Posted on 04/12/2004 Copyright © 2025 Lacy D Phillips
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