i want to go to sleep
but this afternoon is washing over me
in a wave set to swallow everything that kneels before it.
drown me before you go
because i can't stand anymore
and i keep spiraling down and in
eventhough i never wanted to in the first place.
this small black room
moans in fragments of burnt sienna and i can't help but
feel like my eyes are closing in on me
long before i even try to sleep.
you'll find me locked around the corner,
if you can get behind the door,
lost in a heap between carpet and tile;
no more speaking. just spill and let the spinning slow
then sink in beneath the tide,
and your chest will cease to rise against the water pressure.
you'll see me when i surface
hours from this rainstorm.