Maybe Tomorrow

It's only me
Again
Drinking to silence
Wondering who is real
Who is paper.
Pin point thoughts
Burn so bright
so small
Build such intensity
A crescendo
Until I'm exhausted.
I can't keep up this high.
I keep bouncing
The same question
Out into space
With no return.
I'm getting
Tired.
Maybe
Tomorrow.

The Roy Force

I try at
a telepathic
and ultimately
miserable
force.

I can make it
so
much
easier.

I know I can
but I don't.
I project
and I wait.
Project
and wait.

I know it can't work
but I still hope.
Still try.

I want those
elements of my
imagination
to be real.

When all I really
need
is a spine.

Dream Thief

Either
Reality
Is beginning
To steal
From my
dreams
Or
I'm about
To wake
Up.

Quit fucking with me
Morpheus.

Over.

So what do I care?
Huh?
It's been awhile
and my senses
have evolved.
I get into a spot
though
once in a while.
Some drinks and such
put me in a
state.
Yeah.
I wonder things.
Questions form like bile
in the back of my throat.
Doubt hangs around
until I'm
over it.
Who cares?
Who fucking cares
now
but my
liquor
soaked
brain
?