I lie awake in the deep blues and soft creams <br />A long day, tucked in tight <br />Aching muscles, tight scalp, weary eyes <br />Requiem for consciousness undisturbed <br />In a funk <br />There seems little to ponder <br />As the cool sheets enswathe me <br />Although, there is you <br />I saw you passing on the staircase <br />Empty cup, muttering to yourself <br />I thought to stop you as your arm brushed mine <br />Yet felt my limbs become as dense as lead <br />Fearful to tread in your hermitic realm <br />I cower to the wall and let you pass <br />Watch as you ascend oblivious <br />Wondering if you remember my name <br />How to say it in your libidinous way <br />Where is the wistful lover? <br />Round the corner, you become soft footsteps <br />Growing faint, light dies <br />I hear the creaks and groans of timeworn floors <br />The lilt and cadence of strings and drums <br />Wafting down to me, stinging my ears <br />My trumpet’s lament is soft and taciturn <br />You do not hear <br />I grip onto my paint brush <br />I use very gentle strokes <br />The vibrant reds and yellows scream and shriek <br />You turn your head in your complacent way <br />What did it look like to you? <br />Shall I clamour loudly? Clout your face? <br />Frustration bubbling high, ready to spill over <br />Foam burbling dangerous <br />It will ruin the element <br />So I turn myself down, and simmer <br />I listen to you breathe <br />I strain to hear you blink <br />My expressions never clearly illustrate <br />The spectrum within <br />Hesitant to pick up another tool <br />Spent from all my efforts <br />To be heard, seen and felt <br />Understood <br />I am worth this, but am for now <br />Worn out like the floors <br />I roll around in the deep blues and soft creams <br />Plush, downy assuagement <br />Should I stop, I risk your eyes on my naked… <br />So I keep rolling <br />And I smile, having found something to caress <br />For tonight.<br /><br />Tara Teeling<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/blue-funk/
