Insomnia 1

Insomnia 1

home
is a dark place
full of blind corners.
fleeting rest,
insomnia close behind.

 my head full of terror,
the walls full of noise—is that
mom foraging in the kitchen
sleepless and frustrated
ready to snap?

I hide my laptop
under heavy blankets,
hungry and sweating,
desperate not to be found out.
she’ll burst in

and call me an addict
threaten to take the light away
and leave me alone
with my thoughts.
I cry and beg,

 she relents,
nothing is done.
my eyes bruise deeper.
the link between
her insomnia and mine?

 We never talk about that.

home now
is a cheap apartment.
I pace the predawn gray,
unafraid;
safe at last;
still awake

A Brief Taxonomy of My Mental Illness

A Brief Taxonomy of My Mental Illness

On Ciswashing

On Ciswashing