The Moving Pictures: A Poem

Time passes by like a thief in the night, as my mind continues to conjur up vivid scenes of all types

I lay in bed, summoning sleep, as my mind segues from angry concocted fantasies to sorrowful  fictitious daydreams

Time is passing by still, as my heart  attaches itself to the turmoil brewing in my head

My heart now feels pained. It beats briskly. It makes my chest ache and my hands tremor. 

With each moving picture in my mind, my body feels heavier, I feel exhausted.

I’m slipping…

Time is passing…

The hours go by…

The pictures are subsiding now…

My body gives into a much needed  slumber.

Jen xo

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