Nothing Really Mattress


the morning said to me,

“go back to sleep”

then it kissed me on the cheek

and the rain played through my window

like my favourite song

until i was safe in my dreams.

my bed was empty

when i awoke

Morning had left me alone,

and i wanted to wait

for it to come back.

the afternoon knocked

on my door,

asking me if i was going to eat soon

then it told me

“you should probably eat soon”

but i crawled for a new pack

of cigarettes instead

then i laid, naked and empty,

lost in my head

on the floor of my kitchen,

watching the smoke

cloud my vision

of Responsibility peeking

through the window.

Reality had already settled

into the wrong places of my mind,

snickering as it closed the blinds

to the outside,

reminding me

how god damn easy

it is to ignore

the things i do not want

to face anymore.

i heard it whispering

“come on, what’s one more?”

but one more

i was dizzy,

and exploding with emotion,


feeling in extremes

is not easy.

it is leaving the blinds

closed even though

i know i will have to open them


i do not want to.

it is ripping myself in half,

knowing i will have

to stitch all the shit

back up again.

i do not want to.

it is reaching up from the kitchen floor

to get the knife

from the drawer

and sliding it across my skin.

it is the voice in my head still whispering

“what’s one more”

while my eyes shut

and the walls are crashing,

the blood falls.

it is wondering

if the Morning plans

on coming back at all.