aftermath

aftermath


i didn't actually get
to sleep until about 6
in the morning, or so-
rocks were tumbling in my head
and my bed was
not enticing in the very least.

the television served for enough distraction
for about three hours
and then i tried sewing
but something about the repetitive
puncture and pull,
puncture
and
pull
of the needle,
striking and pricking
my fingertips
seemed all-too-familiar
and i started
tumbling rocks again
so i could not focus on sewing any longer.

so i tried writing
and sat down
but the words
look so foreign written down
and so dead, lifeless,
and devoid of all care-
vampire caterpillars crawling
across the screen,
and i was starting to get cold anyways.

so

i tried to
drink myself to sleep,
but i only succeeded
in making my face numb
and my eyes glassy.

so i'm embracing the late hours
and writing a letter.