Bedlam

Bedlam!

there are worlds parallel to this one
and they’re all contained within your eyes,
and my hospital bed is only one step swept
away from under the rug of existence.

i don’t know if can stand
waking up to the bat of your eyelashes anymore
or the quick to-and-fro of your tongue
or the pendulums in your fingers.

i should stop worrying about tomorrow, says the heart
that had actually nothing to do with anything
except for pumping blood. and you imagine me
calling you out on your mistakes,
but i am here, pillow-ridden;
nothing but a bottle of water by my bedside.

there are worlds parallel to this one
and your veins are roadmaps detailing
the journeys of years even i must outlive.
you have earths within your eyes, forest and trees;
mine had nothing, but rivers and seas.

— A. P.

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