when i get into bed at night, i literally crawl
knees up on the bed, arms splayed, searching for the best spot to flop down
i scrunch myself into a ball, keeping myself warm
rock a little bit to find the mattress’ sweet spot
experiement with arm under the pillow; arm out in front of me, side-sleeper all the way
accomodating for my teddy bear – at 30, i am fully aware of the issues that suggests
but i own them, my need for soothing, for familiarity, for something to always be exactly where i need it.
a little fidgety, i find it calming to make circles with my toes, feeling the sheets slip and give at each complete rotation
i lull myself into a rhythm of stillness, a wiggle here, a readjustment there, until i’m motionless
except for breathing
and at each exhale, i bring the blankets a smidge further up
over my shoulder, into the crook of my neck, a tiny bit on my chin, further up around the back of my head
until all that is left
exposed is my nose
in a cocoon, like a mummy
undead in my bed
on a good night, i don’t move at all, and wake up pleasantly suprised to find myself still wrapped up tight
but sometimes
sometimes the sheets don’t align with my thoughts
i toss and i turn and i flip and i sigh
convinced i have bedbugs, or fleas from my cat
and neurosis kicks in, and my eyelids, at half mast, search out my pile of clean sheets and pillowcases
so i drag myself from my warm spot, strip the bed mercilessly, make a pile of my anxiety in the hamper
and stretch a new beginning across the queen-size span
using clips to keep fitted corners tight, hospital edges on top like my mom taught me,
military-precision on how much hangs over each edge, flat sheet, blanket, comforter and duvet cover
tucked tightly between bed and wall, so that i can’t wrestle them uneven in my sleep
satisfied, i throw myself, with the enthusiasm of a 3-year-old’s temper tantrum, back into bed
start all over again
and wake up like a caterpillar in a chrysalis
happy to emerge like a butterfly from my room
the best part of my day is night.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s