Come up to me
As I lay face up on the bed
It’s probably just momentary,
The morning light is blinding but I’m
Not going anywhere for a while.
These covers captivate, they capture.
Wake me, break me, I’d rather scream than lay
In silence on minute longer.
I can’t feel anything under all these layers,
I’m lying here, Just lying here-
I’m always lying here,
What am I doing, wasting my life under these sheets, duvets, and quilts?
And what the **** is a duvet anyway?
I’m just under the surface of something.
I can’t place it.
It’d be nice to know what I”m drowning in, but that’s
Just my luck.
Can’t I just get up, instead of
bleeding for one more line?
No I can’t. Ask me why,
Then it will be both of us in silence.
I suppose it’s
the obvious reason.
There’s no motivation out there
In the big world full of bombs and ******* Abercrombie.
What possibly keeps all of these people
Give me one good thing out there,
And a minute to tear it down.
Everything is getting teared down.
So my bed is
The more favorable option.
The fleece smells like fabric softener and
There’s a far greater chance of
Something positive coming from my dreams
Than from the next election,
To die, to sleep. To sleep- perchance to dream.
As if I would be so lucky.
I see only blackness.