I can sleep alone,
I am wishing doors away,
Frozen ankles chipped,
Blinking pictured picture frames,
Sweet heartbeats about the drums–
Of the deaf ears to natter.
Home scents running across the beige sheets,
I cannot care about my wake,
Systems of matter fill lonely arms,
I cannot care about tomorrow,
Which very much is,
Empty, empty minds rip into voids,
Now, devoid of morning, devoid of you,
I am cold.