Naptime

I want to lay in bed with the blinds open.

Not move a muscle, just soften.

Watch the light come in and out,

The dark sway somewhere in between.

Lay for years, decades, seconds

Until bones turn to dust and settle

On the sheets.

Stain the comforter with death.

I want to lay until I melt

And become a puddle of slime.

Sink into the mattress until all that’s left

Is a faint brown outline.

No legacy, no memories.

Simply a cesspool of human filth.

When I am no longer remembered as the owner of this bed

And the stain is,

I will wake up, refreshed.

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

Heavy imagery here: A comforter stained with death; becoming a puddle of slime; a cesspool of human filth. I may never have an afternoon snooze again.