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.