i think my pillows
sigh with relief
when i finally get off them
for the day

i think my pillows
(neck-deep in tears)
ask my blankets
for inflatable floaties

i wonder if while i’m gone
my pillows talk
to my books and posters
about how tired and frail
my body has become

because on the day you left
i think my broken heart
took the key to my happiness
and threw it in the open ocean
for only the fish to find

i sure as hell
can’t find it these days