the sound of your snoring,
makes me want to run you through,
with a knife.
That atonal rasping and gagging,
penetrates every board,
until this old house vibrates with it.
My rage is palpable,
It thrums alongside your ragged breath,
Dueling frequencies of dischord,
Your tortured sleep,
and my tortured nerves,
You choke yourself awake long enough,
to look through me,
Emit a vaporous moan,
and turn over.
I like it better when you're working,
and I'm more perfectly alone.