cows in the gallows

I always seem
to want to shine,
in spite of being tired,
and sometimes

this is a weird day. 
no poem will do.

But, I used to make the day seem dead,
but today killed itself last night.

in the space that I
sabotage myself 
every single
goddamn day.
how was your halloween?
because this Brooklyn Bridge
and beyond,
behind heart burn
lies hearts.

I find that
the space between days
where we sleep and dream
is the only time I have.

I let myself down.