the pendulum princess taps her pen on the desk as the dogs whimper in their sleep and the trees wrap themselves in the witching-hour starlight
the silence suddenly seems so frantic
i swear i can hear my skin shrinking
the wind slithers over the roof whispering through the moon beams in hopes of finding someone to snuggle up with
at least i'm not the only one who's sick of sleeping alone
my body no longer feels like home my bones creak like splintering floorboards under stubbed toes my head's busy running in circles of constant contemplation am i awake or am i dreaming? was that a sigh or am i screaming?
buzzing like a firefly trapped between a ***** countertop and a frosted beer mug
three weeks of bed rest (and counting) and all that's grown stronger is my understanding of exhaustion