NAUSEA HEADACHE DISILLUSIONMENT

dripping crimson drapes
sanguine sunrise bleeds through you
on   me
exposes my thighs to the birth of the day
muscles that had rotted the night through
the sheets
skin to thread count
my aching limbs wake
in place of andrea scott
i do not know this woman
yet i lay where she calls home in her absence
she had left more than a few whispers and prescriptions
that say "good night" on this one night stand
they settled like milky blue billowing pillows of smoke
 over which i hovered, strained
refusing to collide the atmosphere of my face with hers

examining her supposed sleep-inducing
sprays, lotions, oils, and balms
palms, clenched in palms
your broken breathing
ruptures the still, stale  air in front of my face
i can tell you're hungover and half-awake
i can hear the vibration in your throat as a moan escapes with the exhale
you curl your body tighter

i want to go home
to sleep, enveloped int he warm friction between my skin and sheets
seclusion
to fill the room with only my thoughts and breath
severed
from grandfather time
and grandmother, please tell your yappy-ass dog to shut the fuck up
i'm tired of being barked at in my own home
i feel unwelcome enough as it is

when i'm here
you're not
it starts to rain now
more than a drizzle, less than a pour
blind
im asking my feet to carry me somewhere familiar but nowhere ive seen before

the world
captured and compressed into tiny domes
held with tension
yet i search inward
where no senses are needed to feel absolute emotion
no catalyst required
and no language needed to prove it
but out here the air is thick with the stench of ridicule
tainted sour with lies

i cant sense presence
past the drops that obscure my vision
but like most things
you try to wipe it clean
and youre left worse than
you were before you
even realized
you couldn't
see a damn thing