Restoration

Lately God has been clarifying a conversation he started with me years ago. I constantly see things that are broken,…

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Sleepless

Later than it should be.
Summer fan blowing things to rest.
The heat and inspiration rises and falls like the breathing in my chest
Tired eyes and quickened spirit
Collide in a song,
But dreams are miles away or lost in moments of forgetfulness.
Dawn creeps round the corner
And cracked phone light glows blue like the moon reflecting off tinted windows on the street.
Darkness does a dance to the sound of oscillation and snores
As the dry mouth of exhaustion refuses to say, “good night.”
“Good night!”
Another bedtime story please…
Or something for my tea to caffeinate me to sleep
Tired eyes trade hellos with tomorrow and lashes wave goodbye to yesterday
Wondering where the time came.
Good night.

“Untitled” By Arman Sheffey
 
Trapped behind a shroud of fading smiles.
One false move from cracking and shattering to pieces.
Fumbling for the darkness in a world of light…
dying to feel something…
Something true.
Something real.
Something of you.
Something that’s got your fingerprints and mine intertwined and smudging the pages of our short story.
 
Dull lead scrapes sharp white as the college ruled lines keep the pain from spilling into the next chapter.
Yet the ribbon stays rested along the binding holding the memory on this side of the margin like the banks of a river holding water at bay for a season.
As time treads along the thread its all bound to come unbound.
But what then.
Will past give way to future?
Or will old charcoal brush against and stain the pages yet written?
How can I stay within these lines when yesterday pushes me to freedom?
My emotions ooze across the inches of boundary until My son’s jumping joy calls me to remember tomorrow.
So I accept an invitation to LIVE. AGAIN.
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