Four Hours of Sleep

My body is on autopilot, waking up at 930 every day

Sleep not coming for me during the nights when I need it the most

Tossing and turning during those four hours I have in bed

The walls feeling like they are closing in on me

The loneliness of the big room creeping into my bones like monsters in movies

I come home in the dark early days, walking into my home in silence

Not wanting to wake up the kids sleeping peacefully in their rooms

The dog walking around me in circles, sniffing me to make sure I’m not an intruder

And then walking back to his spot to sleep again

I unlock my bedroom door, the cold air of the empty room hitting me in the face

Like a windy winter in December

When did we start to drift apart?

Was it around the time you wrote me that angry letter I found in your nightstand?

Or was it before that?

You say I was blind to your feelings, never understanding the thoughts in your head

But how can I understand when your mouth remained closed during our years together?

When your thoughts were always locked up in the cages of your mind

The voices in my head tell me to be grateful the kids chose to stay with me

But all I've ever wanted was to be with you

Urge of Infidelity

My hands have touched many faces,

Not knowing where or who or how or why I got to a place of infidelity-

when you lay at home waiting for me.

Men and women and different souls intertwine with mine at night-

And fingers orchestrate dances on my skin and lips sing symphonies on my neck.

I come home with marks from who and not knowing from where, but I know why-

Because I listen to the words coming from your mouth with a sigh.

Harsh truths escaping from you with vigor

Like birds escaping down South for winter.

Seasons come and go and come and go and come and go

Just like me escaping mentally from your groans of ecstasy.

I can’t, for the life of me, figure out why your pleasure brings pain to my ear,

When last winter your whispers brought tears.

My urge for infidelity tingles my skin as one hand grips your hair,

And the other grips the glowing faces.

Motivation- When are you coming?

Motivation knocks on my neighbor’s door,

and I see through the peephole he answers it with eager eyes,

happy to see his delivery came in time

for that work deadline.

But my door doesn’t make a sound.

And as I lay on my king-sized bed, covers over me and curtains drawn,

I listen for footsteps in the hall,

and wait patiently for Motivation to come and rescue me.

But nothing comes that night,

Or the next.

Or the next.

Six months pass with the same raggy clothes and dirty hair sticking to my body.

Dishes pile up in the small kitchen,

and garbage makes a home on every surface like my mom’s dead-beat boyfriend did in my childhood room.

Motivation still doesn’t bother to visit,

even after late night cry session into my pillows,

begging someone, anyone that could be up in that big sky to bring me kind, ole’ Motivation.

Six more months fly by,

And a few more.

And then a few more.

Same clothes and same hair and same dirty apartment with red notices sticking on my door.

Motivation still passes by my door without a care,

not knocking or whispering hello,

not checking up on me like I wish they would.

Not even noticing me on that windowsill,

waiting,

Patiently waiting for Motivation to come before Death decides to knock on my door.