CW: psychiatric hospitalization

when i had laid until i willed myself 

to lay no longer, i laid some more. eat

ing the graffiti with my heavy lid

ded eyes, imprint the sterile bench with my 

availing, comma’d body. deadened weight.

i see the orbs of street light, a glimmer 

of the moon. i can convince myself i 

can see anything, these days. these days i 

lift my fingers, close my eyes, to check my 

pulse. and when i open, i am bleached and 

bent, zooming, somewhere between lithium 

and livability i burrow deep

into the sheet, willing anything to 

turn the universe on again. cacophony. 

nurse’s footsteps. an alarm resounding. 

glasses pinch my cheek. a breeze. a sunrise.