Angel Numbers
When I press my finger to the indent behind my ear, I can remember my dreams
Steam in the bathroom, I spell the word “obsession” in the condensation
Read the label on the lotion, expiration date 44/4, time 4:44
This only matters to me because I have no one to talk to
So I talk to the skull on my desk, and I call him Floyd
I tell him what I’ve noticed, and what noticed me back
It’s important to me, these small and meaningless details
He makes for better company than the therapists and the psychiatrists
Yes, years layer, I still have nightmares about the hospitals
About sprouting wings from my back the first night I spent there
No wonder I couldn’t sleep, the itch of the feathers was relentless
The nurses open the door every 40 minutes, letting the light spill onto my face
They wouldn’t let us touch each other, not even to comfort
Whatever burdens you brought to this place, they were yours to bear alone
Whatever pills they gave me to make me sleep, it made the dreams so vivid
I saw a hairy black tarantula on the wall, and cupped it tenderly in my hands
When I woke up, that was all I remembered and all that mattered
