done. poetry blanket pulled up over my shoulders and wrapped behind my neck as i climb in to the perfect position and hold myself steady trying desperately to think of anything other than the itch on my nose. anything. until sleep comes. Share this: Share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr Share on Mastodon (Opens in new window) Mastodon Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook Share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email Share on X (Opens in new window) X Like Loading...