i burrowed into my bed
vowing i'd never leave
emersed in the warmth
of my comforter.
it felt familiar, somehow

i stared at the TV
the ominous glow of the electronic light
tattooing its images
to the backs of my eyeballs.
it burned,
but in an oddly comforting way.

my head sank back
into the fluffy pillows
that caressed my hair.
their touch felt intimate.

my eyelids drooped.
it was happening.
i was falling asleep.
finally.

my phone bings, a text,
focing my eyes awake
preventing me from
falling into my
dreams.

my hand reaches for it
my fingertips caress the cold glass screen
i take one look
and then suddenly
nothing's comfortable anymore.

"Vic I made a mistake
breaking things off"

my comforter is smothering me,
the TV is burning holes in my retinas,
the pillows are rock hard.

because on
june 25 at 9:34pm
i realized
nothing beats your touch.

She is both,
hellfire and holy water.
And the flavor you taste,
depends on how you,
treat her.