The Broken Subconscious

Dreams I can’t control, outcomes I don’t recall,

My broken subconscious staggers

Like a gunfighter who drew late,

Blood spurting from bullet holes

I didn’t know existed

While a stranger asks for directions.

My glazed look must not have been reassuring–

He’s not going the way I suggested,

If, indeed, this ever happened.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: