Christmas break

I hate this bed
My bed, repurposed.

Dense flat pillows,

plastic mattress cover creaking.

A person I don’t know well

Turns above me and sighs
My back can only be turned to the door

My bed too far from the wall

A mattress with sheets,

One woven blanket

Naked of the nest of

Stuffed things



Which I’ve dreamed about for months

I don’t know where they are.

I’m visible from the doorway

Unable to hide

Unable to burrow

Or even sit up straight
And I can’t stop thinking

How I hate this bed,

Hate where it lives

Hate how much

I hate it


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