filled with sound bite starts
of poetry, prose,
and the occasional grocery list,
litter my bed.
In the dark of night,
paper crinkles
beneath me
as I turn over,
adjust my pillow,
find a cool spot,
and drift off to sleep
yet again.
The center of my bed
used to be reserved
for couple-cuddling,
fucking,
and the wall of pillows
I’d build when my latest
relationship fell apart
so the bed
wouldn’t seem so empty.
I never ventured there solo,
until now.
Now I occupy the whole bed
without apology,
taking possession of it
smack dab in the middle.
Stretched out, spread eagle
I sleep well these days.
Really well.
Curled up with my books
and my dog,
I am as safe as ever.
No need for someone to watch the cave door
for I am my own protector.
~ Mk Michaels
