Their bed is a battlefield:
Sheets drenched with sweat,
The smell of renewed hope,
Pulses slowing.
Wide eyes pierce the ceiling,
Bright with what might be -
The thought of something forming
Deep within.
Hope fades at the lamp click.
Blackened silence fills the room
But neither one can sleep,
Not right now.
Lost in Google late at night.
The glow of false hope forums -
Stupid acronyms and
Fake concern.
Piss-soaked sticks in bathroom bins;
The clang of disappointment
Ringing through the house.
This stops soon.
Feb 1, 2017
Feb 1, 2017 at 4:01 PM UTC
Their bed is a battlefield:
Sheets drenched with sweat,
The smell of renewed hope,
Pulses slowing.
Wide eyes pierce the ceiling,
Bright with what might be -
The thought of something forming
Deep within.
Hope fades at the lamp click.
Blackened silence fills the room
But neither one can sleep,
Not right now.
Lost in Google late at night.
The glow of false hope forums -
Stupid acronyms and
Fake concern.
Piss-soaked sticks in bathroom bins;
The clang of disappointment
Ringing through the house.
This stops soon.
