Sometimes I would deliberately sleep on the couch.
(weird behaviour, one would say)
But the couch had something different.
With just enough room so you don’t feel lonely,
and the same warmth as that of human skin,
I always slept well.

One morning as I’m paralyzed in sleep,
A grasshopper begun to challenge me.
It is as if she was defending her home,
It is as if she was letting me know she ruled these parts
(meaning the couch, of course)

In the dimness of the light, I saw her.
And in one full motion I swung, as she crashed into the wall,
Fixed my pillow,
and attempted to sleep once more.

It wasn’t over though, she came back with vengeance.
Landed on my ear with a droning sound, waking me,
as she flew parallel to my eyes,
where our starring contest lasted a good 10 seconds.

With intentions of finishing the grasshopper later,
Looking like a zombie, I made my way back to bed.
Admitting defeat over the battle of the couch,
I leave her with this win.

Crashed on a couch
Sinking into the meaning
Of not having company
Can these waves cushion
My head
It hurts that the sofa
Can't float me to somewhere safe
Bring me somewhere were this
World can not take me
Bet you've seen the tides rip the light
But have you seen when the night light
Takes over your mind
And you can no longer sleep
On a pull out mattress
Nothing in this life really matters
Waves bring me to the next new thing

I can't hear the choir from my couch
It becomes a funeral pyre in a pouch
Like the unnatural fire in my slouch
That is where I retire
To superficially admire
A world I'll never see
Placing trust in the screen
I'm as lonely as can be
Until couches set me free
From a life worrying about others
The couch becomes my banal brother
That is where I concoct my cowardly plan
To avoid my fellow meddlesome man
Living a life in silence
The couch creates pylons
Determining where I can go
Determining what I can know

This Ottoman Empire
Lights the world on fire
With cushions that fuel
Flames and drool
I attempt to stand
But life seems bland
With feeling constant comfort
So my personality I import
From the images on TV
And my brain it impedes
When I can't think for myself
I put my life on the shelf
And flee into furniture
The couch my burning cure

Hours. Days. Weeks.

I can’t get the time back
spent on a nintendo DS
talking to no one
lost to myself

Don’t even like playing
but being in another world
where I could control my life
kept me there for months

we were laying at the office couch
he came to me
with one hand he grab my wrists
and with the other hand he grab my hip
he brought his body to mine
and said “I want you and me to get laid tonight, baby girl”

I needed this so much.
A little alone time.
Designer jeans.
T-shirts printed with out the blue sayings.
A moment to ourselves home alone.
Wasting time just you & I.
Causally stretched across each other on the couch.
Commercials filled with Wal-mart families.
Insurance companies. Lawsuit claims.
Your sugar fills the space between shows.
Your head leaned back on my chest.

Neck twisted in a kiss.
The TV more so watching us.
The wait of working all week for this moment of relaxation.

The anticipation of butterflies, late night texts. 
The vintage shows we grew up watching, still our favorite.
I really missed you.
Your shoulder my favorite pillow.
The extended twenty-first question of our 21 Questions.
Sitting here with you.
Soon to fall asleep with you in my arms.
To wake up and do the same exact same thing.

To let you know that I made it home safe