Eyes opened now,

Left arm tingling, jeering

The stifling issues I tried to sleep.

Under the covers still,

Sweat yellowing the sheets, cowardly yellow,

With my pillow beckoning:

'Some problems

You cannot help

To sleep.'

Forsaken pillow, you warmed brute;

You molested my problems

With cool, deceitful comfort.

Dare I say, waking now,

You failed to console a napper.

My sheets are yellow, my arms tingle, my legs sweat

And where are you now, forsaken pillow?

'Nap on me,' you say.

Pulling me under, suffocating; naptime, surely.

Laid on your comfort and

Laid on your 'sure'; laid on your lies:

'Well-rested, you'll be,' no more.

I feel hot, red marks

Over my stomach and arm,

Hieroglyphs of you, forsaken pillow;

I feel dampness

Around the hairs on my legs, between the

Toes, mocking you, forsaken pillow;

I feel throbs, up

In my head, problems from before naptime

prevail, you damned, forsaken pillow.

You tempt me, allure. A lust arises

For naptime. But every time, forsaken pillow,

You abuse me, use me, drench me, and drain me,

But naptime is good and well,

For when I sleep at night,

I forget what mockery you are, forsaken pillow.

I love you, forsaken pillow;

I'll turn you around tonight and tomorrow, too,

Wake up hot and cold—but it will do.