Door closes on the past day
either limping to my bed or falling into it
Laying flat
my heart beats faster
blanket moving
in time with my pulse.
and although it's impossible to be so,
I try to get comfortable.
either my music or the radio, depending on the day, sometimes i sing myself to sleep, other times I choose to open my window.
I listen to
the owls scream
and hope that the constant
rushing isn't cars,
it's the ocean.
Hours later
I'm tracing the wall with
numb fingertips that could tell you
every dent and detail in the plaster.
I can't tell where the pain is coming from.
like by laying flat, it moves to my heart
and with each beat of blood, travels somewhere else.
On the bright side
when I fall sleep
I'll wake up and it will be
another day.
