Alembicated Verse

I search for the light switch
lost in the night,
passing electric chimneys
keeping the smoke in flight.
I assure myself that
the morning will break,
but do I have patience
to keep me awake?

Fission and fusion
are all the same to me,
bringing two together
costs both identities,
but if I sleep through morning,
I will still find myself alone
damning the chemistry
of a broken home.

Do I resent myself
or the you I kept away?
Will I find the switch
to pretend in better days?

Typescript, post-scripts,
unhindered and unchanged.
on-switch, off-switch,
the melodrama remains.