by night you twist and turn and try not to dream and by day you haunt a house you can’t breathe in, can’t eat. but you’re changing.

you avowed young that with suspiciously guarded land borders and territorial waters you could prove John Donne wrong. but you never anticipated pursuit from above.

and so it begins…

From this post:
John Donne

you fall into bed nearly broken, the sorrows and victories of the day bittersweet on your tongue. but joy comes in the morning.