Jesper Crane

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Quiet Unrest

I sleep with a pillow
Pressed close to my back
To mimic the body of another
Devoid of life, a pillow cannot breath
Nor emanate the familiar warmth of flesh

This mattress is ice cold and cruel
Vast and infinitely isolating
It is an ocean of seclusion, salty with tears
Waves of cotton stifle soft sounds of weeping

Quiet creeping feelings of self loathe
Claw across my pitiful body
In blame of what I cannot find
For what others cannot find in me

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