Surrounded by a pitch black world of bird cries that squeak and creak through these paper thin walls.
Sweat coats the inside of my thighs,
And I peel one leg out from under the other and place it on top,
Only to do it another forty-five thousand times in the next fifty minutes.
The A/C kicks on,
Chasing away the thick, muggy Kansas air,
And humming a soft lullaby.
My eyes grow heavy and sink.
A quarter of the way open.
My train of thought comes to a slow crawl
Into the station for the next eight hours.
The room grows silent.
I am at peace.
Just about to doze...
A low rasp, a plea for air rises from your lungs and transforms
Into a livid growl.
A beast starving for oxygen!
I am startled by the disturbance,
Frightfully jump starting my train of thought.
Off it goes, at full speed.
The monster inside your lungs belts out in a blind rage!
Yet you are oblivious.
I shake you softly,
Press my lips to your forehead,
And suggest that you lie on your side.
Silence at last.
You snore like a wild grizzly, my darling.
But I still love you.
Get AI Feedback on your poem
Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
If You Need Support
If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741