Shadows That Grow Poem by Brian Sonberg

This blurred-around-the-edges lifestyle
Is haunting.
But he can't give it back now.

Shadows wax and wane...
Headlights mistaken for vision
Going out again.

He pays for his pleasures
With pain.

Ten times over,
Will he enjoy the spin now?

Payment for lost weekends,
Unsleeping;
Invincible.

Hallway memories
Sit behind closed doors.
Unreachable; locked away.

Now they belong to someone else.
Laughing at a comedy,
Currently the tragedy of life.

Maybe the blur is backward motion?
Perhaps a purge,
Life regained?
Fly straight now,
Re-grip the reigns.

Maybe he will make something beautiful
Or piece back together what he's destroyed.