I wanted to write you out today, but I wasn’t sure how to begin.
Should I compare you to:
dried fruit, crumpled leaves, broken glass, perhaps a groggy morning.
I thought maybe I should go this route:
dirt under fingernails, gum on the soles of rubber bottom sneakers, reheated fish
Yet, none of those seem to apply.
You are constant though.
Like the beep of a smoke alarm at 4 am
With pauses long enough to drift off,
but not before you screech again
souring my mood
and chilling my skin while I stand on a chair
to knock you from the ceiling