wake confused. sleeplessness distorts. my entire apartment has morphed, or so it appears. my room’s smaller, the walls a duller shade of white, actual grey? even the windows have rearranged themselves, blink at me bewildered. i sit in bed, push tendrils of matted hair behind my ears & wonder how i got here. i know the apartment hasn't morphed at all; in actually, nothing's changed or will ever change but the air. & the air? just a million exhales slipping room to room.

night blooms outside, folding the day inward. yr in a room full of ash, of people leaning against the walls like velvet drapes. you think of touching them, running yr fingers across their shoulders but realize their softness is an illusion. in actuality they’re gaunt things with glass knees that slice the air as they walk to the bathroom. you keep yr distance, on a couch where two girls curl by yr side, not talking with but at. you tilt yr head back & grin; you watch their words drip, brown at the touch of air, rot so soft sweet you can’t swallow. so sleepy, everything you touch slouches an inch closer to the ground. you ask can we go now? & the girl you came with tugs yr shirt yes yes. earlier she cooed with excitement, the moon seducing her silly, out so late; she was pure giddy, but now her eyes sag with sleeplessness. you grab the keys & as you speed home, you see a dead deer eaten from the inside out. you wonder what it must sound like to hit a deer. & you’ve wondered this everyday for a week.

the windows yawn, entire rooms blink in a sleepless stupor. at five a.m. you wake to the cat’s milky mews clawing yr brain. the cat perched on your chest, jaw filled with cries, skull smacking yr chin. she is insistent, won’t settle till you pet, till she falls asleep & you asleep & sleep till morning browns into afternoon. the day crawls into your room, covering the walls with its furry fingers. heat. you sit on the edge of the bed, try to stand, fall back down.

three girls shoved into a backseat, thigh to thigh, elbows collide. the girl to yr left sips hot coke & whiskey, passes the bottle mouth to mouth. the girls grin. their syllables rise & smear across yr brain. you start talking too, move your mouth so fast. imagine yr words, inreccognizable now, as a pond frozen over. you skate across the syllables—boots laces tight, face flushed white. when the girl to yr left taps yr shoulder want any? it takes you five minutes to shake yr head no thanks then turn to stare out the window. the night has no moon, no light at all except the whites of their eyes.