Nights leave me feeling untethered.
My feet hardly brush the ground.
Maybe I’ll float off into space
as my head is too light to remain bound
and the darkness ***** me underground
where he resides.
I claw out of a six foot grave every night
to get away from his hands.
Bottles crowd the surface of my desk.
I rise with sleep deprivation
sagging heavily from my eyes
and clothes drenched in sweat.
I just want to sleep.
Some nights aren’t as bad though.
Especially with your arm around my middle
acting as my anchor.