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