Sleep
The door hinge holding way too still.
It’s all pine needles.
And stabbing feelings while awake, asleep, and awake.
Just a tap and it’s slithering and unbalanced again.
Can’t sleep type of motivation.
Tapping my dome with fingers growing longer.
Could be a branch or the moon growling.
The carnivorous restlessness grips like a broken pattern on the wall.
The person who is in this bed is me.
As mystical as it is.
We can only sleep,
Or maybe zone out.
But we can’t scream at 3:00 am.
The person who is in bed.
Turned back into me.
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