The ticks of the clock are wavering under the sound of snoring through the house
I cannot see the clock
And it seems I've been here so long
I wonder if time has stopped,
Slowed, drooling down
Their cheeks
Onto a pillow

As I slyly try to slip
unnoticed
into that same unconsciousness
Search party flashlights shine thoughts to my mind
Pierce me for a moment
So bright
I must look

And ****-
Just like that,
There goes the exit sign

So I flop around like a sunbather
Flustered
No light to soak,
While the next head over
(My sisters)
Is draped in a French fry crown
Being fanned by her burger henchmen
The McDonalds queen
orders her bidding done

And mom
Below in the basement
Is caught in her teens
Primping feathery hair
To an 80's pop tune
Chanting into her hairbrush
Until she becomes Stevie nicks herself

And next door,
and on this street,
and the next,
People enter their portals
To find (or forget) the untouchable realm of their minds
And I lie
And I wait

There are 10 kinds of people in this world,
and binary accounts for them all.

They're happy and sad.
They're ones and zeros.
Villains and heroes.
Villains, yet not all bad.
Despite everything life decides to hurl;
Despite every brick ball of fear
Through the stained glass windows of their minds,
Through it all, they survive.
They're angry and glad.
They're happy and sad.

And in their duality, they're still smiling there
at your sharp hasty words
at your venomous hurt
that you wish so desperately they, too, shared.