i stare up at the cracked ceiling
coffee stains of blue dripping onto the sheets
that cover me from the honesty.
rub my head into the pillow
soft downy feathers of geese,
swans pushing their necks
out into cold, damp darkness.
they say that animals have an instinct
that tells them when storms will come
i wish i had that.
i wish i knew you would have come
and i could have closed my eyes
burrowed away
flew to my nest
escaped.
but now you keep me awake
make me check my phone every ten seconds
make me think more about
your tongue in my mouth
and soft warm love.
i try to stop thinking
but i can’t help but wanting it
needing it.
count sheep
one, two, does not work.
go to a happy place
withyouwithyouwithyou
so i lie awake
for hours.
the sandman
never comes.
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