The Gloom (or, The Devil, The Angel, and Me)

The Gloom (or, The Devil, The Angel, and Me)

A Poem by MachinaWriter

OR, - darkest is the night before you blink.

there's a light on above the stove
a candle in my room
& somewhere between...
- there's the gloom
oh, the absence of you;
& sleeping here with me
in these empty sheets
is the happiness i hold close
but don't you know
by morning happiness always leaves
dressed in her finest clothes
just so you can watch her go
dressed in the morning glow

but happiness,
she hit me like a brick to the face
concussed enough, now my heart and head's displaced
this foolish flame's simply set fire to your grace
oh, you're burning up, baby
and so is this place
& the smoke alarm
it's screaming your name
but don't be alarmed
the fire's here to stay
it'll be casting its colours
on these photographs in shades of gray
& with any luck, they'll burn up soon...
but somewhere between now and then
- there's the gloom
oh, the absence of you
casting shadows, baby, in this room
between the candlelight,
the night,
& the darkness before the dawn
that is me and you.

and i think i can smell gas in the air
but i'm too comfortable in this bed to care
wrapped up in these dreams
plus my legs are caught in these sheets
and ive got nowhere to go
so i think i'll just...breathe deep
let these flames warm me in my sleep
call it insane, warn me i've gone too deep
REM isn't reality, no matter how sweet it seems
but if this isn't reality,
then let these flames consume me, please
because between this candle
and my kitchen,
is a darkness far too deep,
...darkest is the night before you blink.

and maybe these flames will clean the dishes left in the sink
neglected, uninspected and left for me
burn up the baggage claim,
unclaimed, by the door
burn up these thoughts i think,
because i can't think anymore
i'll take this coarse tongue
and lick up this whiskey from off the floor
to save my lips from the apocalypse
i have in store,
i'll need them to kiss the devil
when she knocks on my door.

she stole my keys
when she left in the mourn
and the angel on my shoulder's
been drinking for free
claiming she's paying, you see
for my happiness (times three)
now she's praying for three
the devil, the angel, and me
lighting a match for a candle
she's down on her knees
hiding the bruises she keeps
she's praying for it all,
she's playing for keeps,
but there's a shadow between her
and the kitchen sink
that looks like the devil
leaving my keys,
so she prays a little harder
but now she's praying for peace
before i wake to see fake happiness retreat
and scrub the dishes
left in the sink,
- darkest is the night before you blink.

© 2019 MachinaWriter

Author's Note

So this happened. Figured I'd share.

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Added on March 26, 2019
Last Updated on March 26, 2019



Springfield, IL

My original passion has always been in writing stories. Most of them were fantasy stories, because I always wanted to escape. That's what it was. An escape from the troubles of life. Joining this site.. more..