Dark Sorrows of Wandering Fatigue

By Stephanie Smith

Dark sorrows of wandering fatigue

The private hell of dancing cigarettes

On trembling lips,

Turbulent and barely alive

Like a terminally ill patient

With delirious thoughts

And the temporality of seasons

When all reason gets thrown to the wind

Rejection tastes like bitter wine

Forced down burning throats at suppertime

Black curtains shut away the light

We hide inside drunk on rhetoric and rum

And when the day is done

We slip out of our skins and into the night

___

Stephanie Smith is a poet and writer from Scranton, Pennsylvania. Her work has appeared in such publications as Pif Magazine, decomP, The Horror Zine, Everyday Poets, and Bluestem. Her first poetry chapbook, Dreams of Dali, is available from Flutter Press.


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