Tuesday, 1 November 2011

BEd, Bachelor of Education

Bed is my favourite place
like a brewery is an alcoholic's.
The source of my pleasure
is the source of my pain.

It is 3:14am.
Eye drylids are my
and I am cobbling words from emails I sent earlier.

There is such a thing as too much of a good thing,
absence does make the heart grow fonder,
and clichés are clichéd for a reason.

I spend whole days here.
Where do you think I'm writing this from?
My default position is propped up against pillows
which are propped up against headboard,
but the satisfaction of any given day can be measured
by the amount of time I manage to escape this room.

Every day starts and ends here
and sometimes the addiction proves so strong
that the period in between is spent here also.

The bed is a tomb.
The bed is an escape.
The bed is where I have read the most stories.
The bed is queen sized.
The bed is warm.
The bed is safe.
The bed is a thing
                           that I am glad I can take comfort in.
                           that separates me from the abyss.
                           that can be relied on to hug me.
                           that I trust.
                           that I love


  1. i always worry about trees falling into my house and crushing my bed as i sleep in it.

  2. There aren't really any big enough trees near my house for that, but my house is on the edge of a cliff thing and I sometimes wonder what would happen if there was a big earthquake