On the edge

Sitting on the edge of twilight zone of consciousness

dangling by gossamer thread of sanity on the verge of slumber

casting random pebbles of words

into the pond of turbid reflections

causing ripples to stir abandoned memories

that had banded together and resisted being written about

and had become tight fisted about confession

I wait an eternity for some response

empty handed and exhausted I stray back to sleep

hypnotized by the darkness of nightmares.