Respite
A poem
I'm falling back to the bed of grey clouds behind closed doors, silencing the din of normalcy to my ears, obscuring the world from my sight, putting the vivacious animal in my heart to sleep. The gallops have muted into dull thuds, muffled by cotton balls of dread. I cannot see beyond the walls made of thwarted dreams.
For a while, I have humbly decided to let the clouds seep in, fill the cracks and holes, form a warm bed of what-ifs and a pillow of why-nots; for a short while, I want to sleep through myself.
© Sana Rose 2020