Today I decided to sit. Breathe.

Quiet my head against the gentle

Crackle of the fire lit by the

Splintered bones chopped up by

The front porch of your house.

The embers, each one a lullaby

Sought to be listened to, die out

Against the cold linoleum floor.

I grind my teeth until I’m

Slack-jawed, open-mouthed,

Left agape at the sight of your

Apathetic restlessness,

Turned into night terrors.

This was not the good night’s sleep

I was dreaming about.