Roll Out of Bed, Casey Suglia

Wake up passive aggressive.
I watched you drink up sadness
and smoke a bowl of manic-depressive for breakfast.


Our ears rang with the cacophony of settling
pressing our palms to our ears,
the sound echoed into our heads.
Threatening and violent or
full of beauty, it clouded our judgment so
we couldn’t decide.

Go to bed sadistic.
I watched you cuddle emptiness
and wake up masochistic.

You told me
nothing else made you quite feel
like I did.
And asked me to touch you in the way she never had
to wake up,
again, and again.


Our ears rang with silence
left by the gaps in the sentences
and the ends of the paragraphs that we couldn’t punctuate,
determined to know if we were a question mark…
or an ellipsis? Clouds came over our eyes so
we couldn’t decide.

I woke up passive,
I spit up the sadness but
I’ve never been a fan of breakfast anyway.