I didn’t think I’d be alive

today.

I’ve died far too many times for one life.

And the tears fall,

Shallow pools upon my pillow

Where no one can hear.

As the television murmurs

Fallacies into your ears.

The walls seduce you

Into callous nights of pondering.

Pondering.

While I’m rising and drowning,

In the pools of salty water

Resting against my cheek.

And shivering,

Under the stifling quilts your grandmother sewed

With her ancient paper hands

That folded into quiet years long ago.