The Bed All to Myself

And there goes my head again.
And the damn ocean won't quiet.
And I feel fatter when you're not here.
And all I hear throughout the damn house
are drips and cricks, various unsettling sounds...
I imagine little spiders scooting around...
I feel some cavities coming.

And I am almost afraid to sleep.
But afraid not to. For how else will
I get the night to pass?
And if I can't night to pass
I'll be perpetually stuck with
three more sleeps without you...

I am too tired to close my eyes.
Too tired not to.

And I hope you know that though I am
only slightly mad when you are home,
I am obnoxiously so
when you are not.

And I think. And I think.
And I think that I shouldn't.