sleeping (alone)

She came to my house because she knew it was dangerous to be in her own,

girls get smart that way when they realize it helps to out-shed your tears 

in places that aren't your bedroom.

Girls get smart over FaceTime calls when they confess the truth 

and the other end of the line realizes 

she isn't reading the wavelengths of his voice anymore.

I don't want to sound like a super-passionate feminist, all do-it-yourself and all that 

because I believe in love and other corny sap-like things that ruin relationships.  

I just wish we were more blunt 

because you waste time riding the median when you already know 

which side you'll end up on.

This isn't about love 

or secret messages 

or heartbreaks.

It's not about being yourself 

or other sap-like things that ruin punch lines 

and stories 

and people, really.

This is about the aftershock I watched 3 girls endure,

the sound of the fridge in the middle of the night 

and the way you whip your socks off while trying to sleep 

because bodies are warm and sheets are warm 

and I sleep alone.

It's a privilege to sleep alone.

It's beautiful to sleep alone.

You get to enjoy the darkness by yourself

and you should love sleeping alone.

But you don't.

Because you're alone when you're alone.

You grow a new talent for checking your phone 

and hating your screensaver

and my mother thinks I'm emotionally intelligent, which is the biggest hit 

because it only means nobody was there to the stop the pain

and I love my friends 

but I love being friends with insensitive people.

They're good for me.

Girls get smart off of Friday nights alone 

and birthday parties that didn't happen

and it's no use being bitter anymore but you still are around midnight

and I owe the paint on my canvases for killing the lonely.

I sleep alone and I like that.

I sleep alone and I hate that.

I sleep in the shell of my own subconscious 

and that's where God wants me.