It's the centerpiece of my tiny
room, and the place I'll return
to. It's stiff like that green sofa
in the "family" room was back
home. It burdens me with bad
aches like the back of my car
did on those cold nights when
I had no home. It's better than
the cold, hardwood floor, or so
I have to keep telling myself,
but for only forty dollars or so,
I got what I deserved. The tri-
fold bed bends awkwardly at
the cracks, making it hard to
find a good night's rest (not
that I've really had a peaceful
night of sleep since I was up
when my parents didn't expect
me to be up, still: the night they
broke up). But, it's my only re-
prieve when my body fails me.
It holds me more than anyone
else; it's more supportive than
either of my parents ever was.
9 September 2019
