Wounded

In the night, in the darkness
That is when it happens
My thoughts turn dark, heavy
Sodden 
Tasting like wet soot

Trying to fight off
The familiar melancholy
Forcing ruminations of contentment
Into spaces where
There is no room for them
A psychic neon “No Vacancy” 
Glows obscenely
In my restless head
Its “c” burned out
Mocking
All stupid attempts
To change the channel

My mouth forgets
The wide pull of a smile
Teeth weary of the nocturnal clenching
That turns my jawbones into a vise
The dental guard not meant
To prevent
Such crippling anxiety

Jaw slow to forgive this nightly angst
I manage to unlock it
We play this game each morning
As I sit on the edge of the bed
Massaging the sides of my aching face
Wondering
If today will be the day
That I might feel happy

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