Knickknack Poems: 15 Less Regrets

4.Bed

My first real homey thing as I grow to know this world.
My last real climatic piece before.
I close any wrinkly eyelids.

A place to rest my head for the night. A place my soul might rest in eternal peace.

A cave away from society. A prison made by just me.

How is it that I can miss you? yet, when I'm in you I feel as though I haven't lived my life.

Soft crinkly pillows and over washed bedsheets with familiar scents of hair grease beneath my sheets surround me.

Wet spots from forgotten nights filled with tears and wild dreams that sky rocketed so high they flew past the starry night sky.

Silent sighs from stressful days and troublesome creeks on miserable days as turn and toss become second nature.

I'd call you a friend
I'd call you my therapist
If only you had a mouth to speak.

But, I suppose if you had a mouth and legs you would criticize me and leave me like everyone else already has.