The boy sits in a dark room
and wants to write
but he only thinks
and the words still come up
but they are forgotten
and this pains the boy and he
then decides to sleep

but sleep too is
forgotten and he is
left with breathing and
staring into the darkness

The bed is uncomfortable
and the pillow is too high

he takes it from below his head
and holds it against his chest
in a tight embrace that seems
to grow
ever warmer and
more affectionate

his palm starts caressing
the bottom side of the pillow
and his lips start
making pecking motions
against the fabric

and soon enough he grows
hard and his hips
start moving on their
own and he thrusts
into the pillow and thrusts
and the bed starts shaking

"What the hell are you doing?" his
wife asks from besides him.

"I'm writing a poem. Go back
to sleep."