Dec. 16th. 2023

I need to take the garbage out that’s been rotting in my closet

it calls me as the final voice before I close my eyes

the light on outside the room 

just pulling at my shirt, an annoying toddler.  

“i’m on”  I know

“take the garbage out” I will.

I won’t

my towels on the floor damp, discarded- carelessly like everything else flung about to clutter the hardwood floor

and my drawer is open, so the walls are inching closer to the tip of my head 

I feel hands at my feet- in the sheets- unwashed.  

and the ringing in my ears won’t stop

The covers can't protect me anymore.

Can I still sleep to dream? 

i’ll race you to dreamland- my dad used to say - to get me to give up living until the morning

But now dad, i’m running 

Where did you go ? 

seeing both the sketch behind the painting

but deigning to paint on and 

gawk at its value in the gallery 

claiming I see what no one else does

does the young girl feel heard ? not even touched by the artists tragedy, which must be written in the description 

i’ve been blessed to not be beautiful

oppress me with your

shallow eyes- or smart ones-

Im equally doomed the same

why do I forsake myself with asking for it

the garbage needs to be taken out

and I need to close that drawer

and turn off the light?

And count my blessings, or make more. 

lock the door

what if a killer broke in as I slept and he 

slit my throat from left to right

aging,’, im aging anyways 

the girl from elementary school is now a vet 

What am I? asks the dentist how long will student suffice? 

I can pay the rent.

maybe I can take out the garbage.

or maybe get another job

so I can sleep at night from exhaustion not dread 

but the killer could be in the hallways

It will be safer in my closet

and I will not sleep tonight