a low hum, thrumming in the air between us,
a faint breeze, cooler air distributing itself about the room,
no sounds, no light, no movement aside from spinning blades and a whirring engine
i blink, shift the silence in the room,
disturb the peace, the stillness,
try to keep from making noise— light steps, tip toes —and yet you stir,
one small noise, a quick sigh, turning over under your covers
i freeze
the breath caught in my throat refuses to leave until i'm out of the room, door all but closed behind me
and i still can't let it go
both the air trapped in my lungs and the crushing weight of being quiet,
of keeping the peace and retaining the silence
god knows a roommate shouldn't be up at 4am,
but here i am,
and there you are,
sleeping. snoring. quiet little sounds, giving the air of pleasant dreams and calm, restful sleep
i try not to hear.
it seems private, secret,
like i'm intruding on a moment,
privy to these little things that, had we never met, had we not made the choices we had to get here, i would not be experiencing
and yet while i understand it's reasonable to hear your roommate sleep
i feel uneasy,
on edge,
flighty and panicky and nervous and anxious,
all sorts of awkward emotions,
simply because i'm awake and you're not.
but i'd rather it this way.
id prefer to be here, eyes wide and counting the dots on the ceiling
while you slip further into a solid slumber, sweet dreams swirling in your head
[its okay that i'm awake.]
[the nightmares wouldn't let me rest long, anyways.]
[besides, at least if i'm not asleep, then i can't embarrass myself with loud snores or sleep-talking. and Nobody wants those, no one.]
YOU ARE READING
Anthology of Me and other various poems
Puisithe first 6 chapters are the original project I did my junior year of high school, the rest are other poems I wrote at varying times from then 'til now.
