Turning in my bed
Sheets twisted around me
Feet cold
Arms too hot
I feel my forehead
Too hot
Put it against the bed frame
That’s better

Feelings in my heart
Below my rib cage aches
My head is filled with shapeless forms
Dancing and fighting and loving
Random lines from books float in my head
I remember a song
And start to cry
I think of how every day a sloth is run over by a car
They don’t deserve that