this bed is making me sick
enough to hold my head
before it hangs in shame
from staying inside all day.
it gets worse off
when i talk.
my mouth stops saying
before it starts crying.
my acoustic thoughts
never felt more wrong.
why is this a slump
that i can't shrug off.
questions that i
can't stop asking.
questions with
no one left to answer.
god bless god
most of all
for giving me a velvet sheet
to cover my death bed.
