A poem from the view of a bed. Inspired from finals week.
He stands there, eyes dipping like icicles
and hollow as a dark cave. He
knows where tranquility and dreams
lie. It is in front of him, covered
in cotton sheets and marshmallow
looking clouds that cradle his head
like a newborn looking for comfort.
The pages of the book and this wifi
though keep him occupied, dying
of stress while I sit here, just
waiting for him to say that he loves me.