As I put my head beneath my bolster,
there comes a little monster,
finding its way through my curtain wrapped windows.
I pull my sheets and lay my back straight,
wondering if I had been done with the day’s weight.
Anxious, I stay, in contrast to ecstasy and gay,
like the thread of a shirt when it tends to fray.
Every seventh minute, I stare at my bottle of wine,
standing upright on the teak chair full of shine.
As the monster finds its way and takes its place beside me,
I stay static, thanks to my line of thoughts.
My mind takes me through the days I had been bullied and kicked,
as the one beside me tries to tell me I have always been tricked.
The stars in the sky,
The moon hangs low.
My thoughts are lost
As moonbeams dance through my window.
Everything is interrupted by a hand, solid and rough,
with its fingers making their way through mine.
A silent scream, from my soul, trying to escape into air,
before being halted by a voice sounding so bare.
“Everyone’s a finagler out there, beware, my dear,
for I will remain true to you, forever, so throw out the fear”.
I blink twice, and try to alter my pacing heart,
and stare at my shelf possessing a variety of gins and wine,
as it rotated its palm parallel to mine.
The clock says half past three,
as I lay between my Devil and the Deep Blue Sea.
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