Unfulfilled

I want to inscribe an image onto your mind.

Placing the words, with a #2's precision,

On the surface of your psyche. 

Witness it's slow absorption into your consciousness. 

I'd like to breathe words into the emptiness of the hard morning air 

before the sun burns the chill from the streets and millions begin the day across the city. 

I want to hum a melody to entrance you. 

One that will slide it's way into the crevices of your mind, 

hovering, 

on a string of repeating notes and syllables.  

But I am paralyzed by the threat of failure
And sleep overtakes me far too easily instead.