the burden of breathing

is as sweet as honey
dipped in the heart
of the devil
and set aflame
with bourbon.

sweat soaked
and wrenched awake
at 3:02 AM
while the sirens blare
and the music
thumps the night
in casual vibration
like nobody's listening.

you reach out
and no one's there.

the screech of a cat.
the creak of the house
as it settles into
the cold.

take a step back.
let the pace set itself.
the sun will come,
and the spiders
will weave webs.
the troubles of today
are the troubles of tomorrow.

you're back to sleep
again,
but not for long.