entombment (20161005)

the sun barely up
not even enough to
flood the room with light
not with all those clouds

i pull the covers
over my head
i can hear her in the kitchen
and i feel guilty
about staying here

the sheet is stretchy
manufactured to keep you
cool in the summer
warm in the winter

but i lay here
and breathe my own hot breath
replacing oxygen
with co2
i’ve buried one of us alive

i hear the cup
clink against the counter

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