You don't want to wake up
anymore
okay, that's fine
stay in bed and watch
the clock knock space
upside it's head, like it's
a cosmic episode of
the Three Stooges
let the doors close
themselves, and lock
whatever is left
of eternity
outside
You hear someone
speak, and it makes
a little sense,
something like,
he's still in there,
should we wake him?
The eyes roll
back into their
respectable sockets,
the mouth locks
back into it's rightful
hinges
Functioning
never felt so
good, especially
under the weight
of mortality
Your hand revolts
against your mind's
fiendish desires
and coils around
the doorknob
like a thirsty desert
snake
It turns the ****,
it resembles
pouring frosting
all over a bland
bundt cake
It tastes good,
the bed no longer clings
to your body, but still
carries your sweat stains
just in case you ever
want to go back to that
sick, sad,
escape