ccc. feb. 2009. me.

It's too easy to fall asleep with the light on
sometimes you doze for a minute or five but an hour goes by
sometimes you're waiting for a message.

boy held a sky-blue lighter under my sleep sense.
sometimes you fall out of your lucid dreams
and you look around at the papers and frames engorging the cold walls
you look around so stunned and placidly
take the book off your bed, dogear it, then stare some more

lower your eyes off for a real minute. you let your shoulders be cold
my angled bones stand out in blackness against natural longing flesh.

you wake up cold, or hot. who knows. feeling the cotton sheets
and bang! you roll over on your side and winter sun from the East side of the house absolutely sears through every sense.
flattened by the plain fluorescence and skin made to look grey and unfixable.
It's sunday and sunday to monday goes from white to black with no sleepy moonlight
no heaven stares just one hundred and twenty hours of 60 watt light bulbs keeping you awake and negative 60 watts of light slapping and abusing you till you fake rest.