My bed knows my body better than anyone else does
It knows that every day, I lie between comfort and chaos
And how I always think of the future and sometimes feel the past
It listens when all I have is bottled-up feelings labeled with unborn words
And it shows up when I want to disappear, offering its hand to heal where I hurt
My bed is a witness to my rise and fall in conquering what I want to be in this world.

My bed knows how I spent sleepless nights dreaming of becoming someone new
And how many moonless midnights have I fallen asleep feeling blue
My shortcomings, longing to have someone see me with a romantic value
Fear of being forgotten and drowning in life’s flow
Thoughts that stream down my eyes every night and water the flowers on my pillows
One morning, I will be gone, and you’ll find the bed I was sleeping on is now where my garden grows.

In a rainy season like this, when I often feel lonely
I find my bed as a true-blue companion and as a sanctuary
The blanket wrapped around me calms my mind and warms my body
It almost feels like a hug from every version of me that died throughout time
Buried inches beneath the mattress are memories from the seasons of my life
And the summery scent of the layered bedding reminds me that everything will be fine.

It’s seven in the morning now, and it’s September’s second Sunday
My bedroom window is foggy, and everything outside looks grey
Everyone’s up to something, but I’m feeling down, so I’ll stay in bed all day
And watch a movie, drink a coffee as I watch the raindrops fall down my window
Write a poem and sleep some more while I listen to songs that describe my sorrow
Today, I’m letting go of things weighing me down, and I’ll try my best to seize the day tomorrow.

#sunday #rest #rainyseason #bed #poetry


© jomel