Would you rather be in your deepest slumber,
withered by the mind’s power?
Or see the dull shades of your shadow,
peeling papers on the walls, coatings of the floor, in sorrow?
Would you rather hide in silence, and go
about what could have been?
Or would you fight for what’s true, and hear
your cries from the other side of the sea?
These questions uncovered as I sleep, not knowing the answers
while tumbling down in my sheets.
I swim beneath the pillows, the covers, the scratches, the pain. I
creep underneath it all, I weep, and I…