It’s an awkward feeling
Like I’m sleeping on the wrong side of the bed
Waiting for the mattress
To form to my shape
And wishing that I could say the right thing
At the right time
And when is anything awkward?
Is it when I say it is?
Or when it isn’t
Or when I wish it was
Or wasn’t
And is it ever really awkward?
Or is it just me?
And is that the answer?
Or the question?
There’s more space here on the wrong side of the bed
More than I had before
Space gives me room to think
But it’s too much room
And soon unwanted thoughts seep in
And they won’t go away
I want my normal side of the bed back
But a wall has been built
And I can’t ever return
And these thoughts are stuck behind the wall with me
I can’t escape
The mattress is taking a long time
To form to my shape