Someone has made my bed differently today,
For the covers are brown and rough,
I can't be certain who it was
that tucked it in so tightly at the sides,
(I always hated that...)
So constricting;
I cannot move.
Such discomfort.
It's almost as if I am trapped in some form of elaborate prison.
I really cannot bear this cover;
For it hardly keeps me warm at all.
So cold, so scratchy,
I feel frozen so that I cannot stir,
My skin, like ice.
And yet...
I rest so peacefully.
Oct 2, 2013
Oct 2, 2013 at 9:10 AM UTC
Someone has made my bed differently today,
For the covers are brown and rough,
I can't be certain who it was
that tucked it in so tightly at the sides,
(I always hated that...)
So constricting;
I cannot move.
Such discomfort.
It's almost as if I am trapped in some form of elaborate prison.
I really cannot bear this cover;
For it hardly keeps me warm at all.
So cold, so scratchy,
I feel frozen so that I cannot stir,
My skin, like ice.
And yet...
I rest so peacefully.
