some mornings im not awake
until my fingers hit the keys
until the music of the morning
drowns out the
confusion in my head

until my feet are sure when

they touch the floor

that the floor will touch them back.

some mornings

I have to find my way back to this world

Through someone else's skin

I have to sit post-coital sipping coffee

Writing words without purpose

without glasses

without lights

In the brown dimmed light of someone else’s bedroom

With someone else’s pen

Then there are nights that become morning

Demons take over my bed

The couch becomes the only

Place I can get warm

While the plants watch over me

In 4am silence

And my fingers hit the keys

Until the dawn fades me into sleep

Warm, safe, soft sleep.