The time between dreams and consciousness
I was fighting with sleep early this morning
sometimes she wins
and I submit to her slumber
sometimes she walks away just to spite me
for all the times I have fought with her
leaves me awake with just my thoughts
There is something special about the early morning
so early that it is still dark and seems like night
there are ideas that come from the barely waking time
can get so much done before the day has even begun.
I did not get here on my own accord this morning
Love screamed out from a nightmare
like a scared yodel
touched his face
it’s okay
what happened
he told me of his dream
laughed and promptly returned
to his snore-filled snooze
I lay awake in the dark cold room
the cold of early morning that
hints of its intensity through our down blanket
can hear every wind whisper
turn to one side then the other
then to the glow of my phone
deciding I will read
until I sleep takes me again
But an hour and a half later
I got up
because sometimes
it isn’t worth it to fight with her anymore
I found warm clothes
Got under a blanket and sat in my window nook to write
