I This is what I do when I can’t sleep. Write my hate notes while others dream deep. I draw shapes of plight with my pen And I’m dysfunction and I’m all dark. II I can’t watch my rind wringed anymore. Between bone and skin Is a hole where my soul once flowed. Now floored. III Beat back: broken back: The stain of us. The vacuum of us. The timely death of us. I draw shapes of plight with my pen dreaming dysfunctions and all dark.