My back slightly sunken in, caressed by a mattress
my head motionless inside a folded pillow and
my mind padded by sweet dreams that only show
themselves to the outside world through twitching
eyelashes.
If only I were sleeping, I would've missed it...
an evening wrapped in the frightened inevitability
of facing truthes and losing face through honesty,
clogging my lungs and twisting the handle on a vice
around my ribs.
If only I were sleeping, I would know what to do...
I would lift you up with one arm, drape you
over my shoulder and run with you. Passed
every three or four-eyed monster to come our way,
never breaking a sweat, never losing confidence,
and never wondering where my priorities went.
If only I were sleeping.
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