27 September 2013
Why do I sleep in my robe so much?
It’s because I can’t pull the blankets up.
I’m too proud to ask for help,
On nights when both wrists swell.
Some nights I can.
Some nights I try.
I lay here and cry.
If I was an inventing queen,
I’d make cover and tuck machine.
What is the next thing I will hide?
Or not pull up to save my pride?