I’m waking,

And the blankets

Shuffle off of me

Like soldiers

Just following orders.

I’m lifting my head from the pillow

And shaking the dust

From my hair.

I’m level with

The ground,

Breathing in hardwood,

The splinters in my lungs,

The rest of the world

Is out having fun.

I’m watching

Through a window

With frosted glass.

Stood upon a wobbling bedside

Table, I’m not able

To make out their faces,

Except for the smiles.

But I’ve closed myself in,

I frosted the glass

With my breath,

And all I have to do

Is go out there.