Head resting heavy on the pillow,
so soft that it’s almost hard.
Hot, fast thoughts darting—
an uneasy breath, stuck at an annoying sniff.
Eyelids slowly opening and closing,
a sting of tears brings dew to each eyelash.
Each long breath in, meant to calm,
is met with an irritable exhale.
A long night ahead.
Or morning,
depending on how one looks at it.
Three hours to go until the alarm—
shouldn’t look.
Two hours fifty-nine.
Dull aches shooting through a shin,
foot,
and a heaviness that’s dragging down.
Could get up and make tea.
No.
Just stay here.
Slow, long blinking.
This might be it.
The alarm goes off—
was it one hour twenty-three?
Probably shouldn’t think about it.
Get on with the day.