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Dev Aug 2022
Five hundred nights we shared this room
You still crack the blinds to watch the moon

No dogs allowed has been long overruled
You always felt that was just a bit cruel

Despite the hair, dirt, and drool
You welcome the new fur family rule

No more fussing with my sloppy side
Now you tidy the sheets in half the time

The center of the mattress is just as fine
Though you still refuse to cross that line

You still sleep on your side of the bed
Yet, Five hundred nights since I've been dead
Possible work in progress rendered from thoughts of sleeping alone while the wife is at work.
Steve Page Aug 2022
I've noticed just how much of our talking waits
until bedtime - as if until then
we have lacked permission to pause
until we've undressed and bundled ourselves
into our duvet time-capsules.

Alas, it’s then
when the competing urgency of sleep rises
and meets our log-jammed thoughts

it’s then when our fight fades,
when our wide meander sprawls,
exhausted of its pungency

And its then
when our ability to cement thoughts
cracks in the face of creeping sleep
rerunning its classic dreams
and rebuilding forgotten worlds
that we’re fated to later abandon in the shudder of dawn,
and the demands of a new day.

And so, we delay any conscious introspection
and leave our contemplations to our advancing Sandman
as we slumber and sleepwalk in his wake.
It's like our useful thoughts wait until we're unable to listen.
bri Aug 2022
The bed has never been the comfiest place to sleep in.
Everywhere else is better than sleeping on a bed.
The couch is inviting, soft, weird place to sleep, but acceptable.
Single wooden chairs lined perfectly, not so much.
But still, better than a bed.
The floor too, albeit cold and flat, it stretched my muscles into place, held me to the ground until I was fast asleep,
so still, it is better than a bed.
Sitting while im on my desk supposedly doing my homework is also better than laying in bed.
Why was everywhere else so much better than being where I should be?
I never fell asleep on the bed. It was too stuffy, too suffocating, too boring, too everything.
It was loud, and banging on my mind with quietness and precision as it does every night.
But most especially, it felt too much like a coffin.
I’d rather sleep anywhere else than on the bed.
Amanda Kay Burke Aug 2022
I stand and wobbily make way to the door

Night fallen so quickly again

Afraid of dark
Shut the door and turn around
Not before flipping the lock

Instead of going to move amongst glowing lights and the odor of *****
Slip into pajamas and slide under the covers of my dependable bed
If patient
Sleep will find my skull eventually

So once more I am left in the space between dreams and reality
To float amidst streams of wind inside my empty mind
Nigdaw Jul 2022
I never felt a part of it
had a plan of how to spend
this gift of 24 hours
so if it's ok
I'll leave the curtains drawn
and sleep on into the afternoon
let me know
if this is likely to happen again
Ylzm Jun 2022
It'll speak to you when you wake
Thus I wallow long in bed
Till I hear and duly feed
Then I'll rise and eat the cake

It'll speak to you when you wake
Even at times before bed
Then you're waiting as dawn peeks
To run with no time for cake

It'll speak to you when you wake
But ignore it before bed
In nightmares it'll haunt your sleep
Till you walk and forgo cake

It'll speak to you when you wake
Why study when time for bed
Books are weary but sleep's sweet
Thus you'll eat and keep the cake

It'll speak to you when you wake
If not you'll despise your bed
To roam and ceaselessly seek
For real food and not the cake
Anish Goel Jun 2022
I can still see
your lipstick stains on my bedsheets
I haven't washed them yet
The memory is all I have left
I S A A C May 2022
all the wells are empty
the wars are lost
all the children cry
but we focus on our capital instead
homeless crowd the streets but we blissfully sleep
in our egyptian cotton sheets, in our bed of lies counting sheep
praying away all the evil eyes
welcome to the end times
f Jan 2022
lay weary in bed with me.
let the minutes morph into hours and hours into days,
the world is right here at the tip of our fingers,
in the way we embrace one another.
lullaby from home
My Love Maria is like a great flower bed full of Clematis Maria Cornelia,
Which at ****'s break; LOVE's true light brings her sweet flower's to full glory at daybreak and at midday her flower's shine with a glory like the Sun and the Moon herself,
Her sweet flowery fragrance takes me to the heavens,
Because her LOVE is white and pure like the snow on the ground in winter time,
Her smile is the gateway to heaven itself and her teeth are white like snow on the hills of Scotland itself,
So may; I be the blessed drone bee to help her husband do the blessed act of pollination in our love together,
So White and Beautiful is my Clematis Maria Cornelia,
So White and Beautiful is my Clematis Maria Cornelia,
So White and Beautiful is my Clematis Maria Cornelia.
(15/12/2021)
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