Dead Metaphors Poem by Alison Rosalie

last night
i laid in bed
dead metaphors
bred chaos in my head
seeing scenes of
crying silence
comprised of suicide
or dying violence
my corpse a sore mess,
i watch you cry
as you toss and turn
over 'wonder why's
and i know
(please tell me
i know)
somewhere
beyond the 'bow
black birds bellow
the songs
i am too sad to sing,
forgetting the fretful
unfair feeling
i feel feeds my fear
of any real way
out of here
any real way
to see you clear
to see you
the way
it should be
would be if i could be
something close to good, see
i'm just a little
more than lonely
and the you i can't see
is all that stands me
right up again
oh when i am down.
but you are just like
every other 'you'
i've had to sigh through a frown
no i can't
even have you, see
i'm a little too lonely
and sometimes i swear
i'm just meant to be
absolutely, utterly
totally, completely
lost and
listless
(lonely) .