Across the roof cold rain claps,

Oozing, thickly sobbing, over near frosted glass.

I try to sleep and yet I can't,

I close scratched eyes, red numbers drifting,

Faded ceiling skies,

And only the single red lines change.

How long's stretched past?

Drawn, I roll; press my face into yellow down.

A cry, a prayer:



But only the single red lines change.

The rain falls louder,

Sweeping away silken taffeta dreams,

Leaving me the dark,

that dear enticing liar.

Another single red line change,

I wait, count beats, count blinks, count breaths.

My eyes are sticky, my tongue is twisted,

To tight to call away the bleakness,

Oh end.

The rain continues, I swallow, parched.

My eyes finally close, but mattress,

Damn respite, is forbidden.

The red lines change,

I stay the same,

Until slate light tells me I have lost again.

I rise, continue.

The single red lines change.