Bed

by Alyson Worrell 7 months ago in sad poetry

A Conversation with My Bed

Bed

My bed is my best friend and worst enemy. I think about it constantly during the day while I am busy, and trying to live my life. I think about my bed so often. By the afternoon my body is pleading, begging to jump into bed. Rest, my bed tells me. Why do you exhaust yourself. Why are you putting your body through all this pain? “Stay here,” whispers my bed. But I can’t. I have to take care of my daughter, play with her, love on her. The bed whispers, “but I have warm cozy blankets to snuggle up with.” Bed, I have a life though, and a career. I am desperately needing a girls night. That can wait, my bed says more sternly. My husband is missing my face, and we haven’t talked in days, so no I can’t get into bed yet. My bed is wanting all of me, all of the time. My bed grows jealous of others in my life. My bed wants to take hold of body, and hide it from the world. By six PM, my bed and I are now in a starring contest. We stare for minutes. Tears start to roll down my face. Chronically fatigued, exhaustion runs throughout my entire body. I sit down on the bed and whisper, you win again. Lying down my bed says in a cocky voice, “try again tomorrow, but you always have a safe place here.”

I watch my daughter play in bed beside me. Coloring, giggling and giving me sweet sweet kisses on my cheek. My body is shut down and stiff with no place to go. It’s been over and hour lying here in bed, and I feel the tiniest bit of relief. Hours go by, my daughter is now asleep , snoring. I feel all the pain rush back into my body. Being in bed is just as bad as not. My neck, back, hips, hands, ankles, wrist become stiffer. I yell, “you lied bed, you said I would feel better, but I only feel defeated. Bed, you are not my friend. We have an absurd relationship. You lie and take up so much of my time and life. “I’m so sorry,” whispers my bed, just come here, lay down and let’s sort it out in the morning. Exhausted, I agree and close my eyes.

sad poetry
Alyson Worrell
Alyson Worrell
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Alyson Worrell

Writing is my therapy.

Writing brings sunshine into my day.

Creating a community.

Creating a place for growth.


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