Poem: Temporary Light

That light of depression darkens your darkest night
and the chemical monsters come out to play
and they will dance and stab until first light
but you are a wing on a dead bird that can’t fly
and you’re often a fly on a wall that’s riddled with bullets
and you scratch the skin off your skull wondering why
then that little slice of daylight illuminates your space
and you vow to hold on to it with everything you’ve got
and then it vanishes, leaving you with a bruised inner face
then you want to join the Bergman players in the dance of death
and you find a dose of sister comfort hugging the hell outta you
and you then advance toward the precipice, running out of breath
then that flash of daylight comes back again with a smile
and here you go again with the game of touch and go
but at best you wanna hang out with it all for just a while


© Brent Lienard

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