Sorting through
the aftermath of sleepless nights.

The thoughts
that kept pounding against my temples
before I even opened my eyes,
that held me back
from turning around once more.

I peeled myself out of the sheets,
one hand stirring my coffee,
the other holding a pen.

Fumbling the lines,
the pen scratching the surface
of a torn envelope of some advertising mail
that I probably didn't even read.